Blowout Poem by Kewayne Wadley

I took the wheel,
Setting the mirrors
To my liking.
Your voice beside me.
We drove through the city,
Following cracked pavement
And barely patched potholes.
It does my heart good,
Reminiscing with you.
The songs we used to sing,
The places we used to go.
Some turns deeper than most,
Some turns wider than the last.
I lit a cigarette,
Watching the smoke find
The crack in the window.
Who would've thought
We'd make it this far?
The ghost of who we were
Left stranded in the rearview,
Unable to come back.
We learned to navigate the roads
Of who we are.
Rather than who we think we are.
Forgetting that at some point,
Who we were cannot come.
Your eyes trace the windshield.
Dotting from insecurity to insecurity,
Another argument that leads to a
bigger pothole.
The tires are worn out enough.
Still, we ride along
The cracked asphalt,
Regardless
if there is a blowout or not.
We're alive.
Perhaps more alive
than we have been.
There isn't enough room for more
Tear.
Before fixing what's already
In front of us