Driving in a Headspace

A lovely poem on my perspective of my road rage.

The clouds expand towards the array of hills at the furthest point of my vision. Miles of trees encompassing the sights and accompanying the sounds.

I am so sticky with sweat, strands of my wild and wind blown hair lay glued to my forehead. The Texas heat churns my stomach momentarily, but it fades as a breeze laps at my face from the open window.

I am concentrating.

Concentrating on not allowing the wires of my brain to spark and ignite the hysteria inside me when I can't keep my speed.

I can feel my blood boiling behind my skin, the cooling voice of reason slowly receding into the depths of the chaos.

I wish I could enjoy normal things. Instead I create these hidden realities that I know to be false, yet I continue to build them and cultivate their prosperity.

Why can't I let my emotions go?