No Destination

I put my heart in the ignition and leave nothing but tire marks behind. The wheels in my head spin by yellow lines that separate me from my past. But I blink without regard. I look past my eyes through the rearview mirror as if I don’t know I’m alone. The pavement fades into the night, and I see nothing but spots of city life tempting me, tearing me, blinding me. I start to decelerate before I go too far. However, I void my intention to exit. I accelerate. Intentions—good and bad—are paved beneath me. I add up the miles I’ve used, and with a quarter tank left, I admit truth: I’m relieved to be lost.