when i think of my heart i think of a twisted road.
i associate the jagged yellow lines as the memories i hold and the stories i’ve told,
and that rest stop on the side of the freeway is a place i’ll always hold you.
when i think of my mind i resort back to the road for the line between my mind and my heart is a blurred one
for, when was the last time i thought of you
and my heart didn’t leap? when has it never jumped in excitement at the thought of your name?
my trailing thoughts are the potholes, the scattered bumps, the places the construction guys forgot to smooth out.
and while sometimes it feels this road will wind forever and i’ll never return back home i’ll remind myself that there’s a home for me past the off ramp, at the rest stop.