Poem: Save Yourself

save yourself

Save Yourself

Your throat is sore.
Your ears ring.
There was not enough sleep in the night
to keep your demons at bay.

The coffee burns your throat,
a necessary evil for the journey ahead,
ten hours of road time, fueled by caffeine
and a sense of duty.

There is not enough of you.
You feel transparent, worn,
oil to other’s pigment.
At times, mostly, that is enough,

A second cup of coffee. A third. Enough
for the next few hours.
There are few tonics finer than that in-between place,
neither here nor there, effectively invisible.

Your demons cannot keep up with the silence
traveling at a few miles over the limit.
They will unravel. Fall behind, until
only you are left, still invisible,

to everyone save yourself.

About this poem

My wife contends that I need a road trip every so often to remain sane. It doesn’t really matter where. She’s not far wrong.

Tom

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