the illusion of side mirrors

i lose a little
more of myself
every mile driven
in the half dreamt
state of longing for
the things that
appear closer than
they truly are
staring into the
side mirrors for a
glimpse at the reflection
of the promised happiness
i can’t quite tell
if i am chasing
or racing just out of
reach of with no clue
how to slow down and
let it catch up to me
only to find it is
repulsed by the
ravages of a life lived
with nary a kernel of
joy with which to
barter dreamshards for
a taste of contentment
shifting polarities
in perpetual notion
propelling me faster
from that mythical
sense of belonging
as the brakes are cut
and the temperature gauge
rides the red line into
an oblivion of misjudged
reciprocations towards
the edge of the cliff
whispering poetry to
the circling hawks
seeking better prey
among the brown grass
littered with fallen
leaves and stray wisps
of conversations left
unspoken in the silent
stretches of highway
by a fool who crossed
the terminus between
a life wasted and the
encroaching death that
awaits every shattered
idiotic savant hurtling
through life alone

i lose a little
more of myself
with every new verse
a once vibrant painting
diluted by pollution
left untended in a
storm of inattention
as the miles tick off
growing closer to
a six foot grave and
weathered marker
proclaiming there was
nothing to be here
nothing to see here
a mirage of self delusion
seeking dreams intended
for someone more worthy
than an unwanted fool
who doesn’t know how
to not give away
every piece of himself
in a repugnancy of desire

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