A full tank of gas

Is what I use to pass the time.

What I use to run out the clock

Of every 24-hour day.

What I use to greet the night

At every stop sign,

every street light.

I drive not knowing where I am going,

just always waiting for a destination to arrive.

But at the same time, I do not strive to go anywhere

Always a dull sense of lonesomeness in the air.

I often feel it is just the aroma I dispense,

The scents of loneliness-

I constantly wonder if people can smell it on me

When I get out my car do I leave a trail?

Can you see it on my face?

Can you see it in my hair?

In my eyes I know it is obvious;

Lonesome,

Lonely,

Alone,

Alone.

When I say the word "Alone"

I taste a stigma

As if there is a hidden sadness

Or a secret downward spiral.

But that isn't true.

Alone is a state of mind

That makes me want to wander in the night.

Maybe I live too secluded

Maybe I drove myself

To a point where I needed to drive

just so I could clear my mind.

But I am okay with that idea

Because the night never does look me in the eyes

or beg me to confess

Especially when I drive.

I drive to be a part of something

To join the traffic.

To join the hustle and bustle of a busy city.

It has no choice but to welcome me.

When I venture off

And drive away

I just follow the road

I let the radio go

I let it sing me to peace

I don't want to think

I just want to be,

Which is why I leave.

I go to the road for clarity

It is my form of therapy.

No matter the day of the week,

Or the time-

The moon greets me with a guiding light

Every night.

I drive and bask in the feeling of "Alone"

Funny the things we do to feel welcome and at home...