Shadows paint our backdrops

I’ve never moved this fast in my life. Highway, freeway, autobahn, it doesn’t matter, I’m hauling ass. A hint of a speed limit graces my peripherals and even though I’m driving too fast to see the sign that fact alone is evidence that I’m fucking up. Any other day I’d slow down, but not today, not tonight. Tonight I was driving under the influence, high off of a feeling I’d only meant to try. Belief. Tonight’s the night I learn to believe in something, shifting into drive beneath a backlit sky painted by phantoms. These street signs fade into a blur as I release myself into the soft feel of a leather sear. This fuckin rain never lets up, but there is something amazing about a green street sign drenched in rain hanging against the orange hue of a street light. Something I didn’t notice, and never will at this speed. “Can you even feel?” The words echo against my throat, clutching to the fluid-slicked safety of my esophagus, praying that they’ll never have to leave home again.
I had to leave home again.

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