Heartless and Disorientated

freeway

when i sleep i find i must always be ready to wake up with a broken heart,

because my mind tends to spin tales of destruction at night,

a devouring of my will to keep on spinning in this chair without passing out from the lack of blood flow to my brain,

without falling apart from the strain, my hopes and dreams crumbling from my hand and out the car window, getting lost in the freeway wind