beneath the flames

June 23, 2017

You used to like waiting in traffic. Street lights at 11 pm were peaceful. Time passed a bit slower. You could see moving blocks of people– slowly moving blocks of lives. It was quiet. Tranquil.

Now, just weeks after, the silence is too much. You see other people living when you’ve stopped. You are forced to think, make decisions, play the games of your mind and heart’s conspirations. And you wonder if things could be simpler. You wonder if you are the same person in the same body living the same life you once knew. You see all the places you could be going, all the lives you could be living. The car’s now too small for comfort. The peace suffocates you.

But in the pm night lights, you come to terms to all the possibilities that you’ve stopped being a part of.