A ton of bricks

to my chest

the second I looked away. 

It was real then, 

in a way it hadn’t been before. 

“Two years,”

they whispered. 


“This is good,”

I said, a hundred times,

a hand to the wheel,

a hand to my heart. 

So many thing I wanted to say, then, 

but the moments had passed. 

I had to keep driving. 

Maybe it hurt, 

but I knew the only way now, 

is forward.