silent ride

There were times when my mind left unguarded and it strayed to a certain memory of certain nights of blaring sound and blinding lights. To a guilt-free you. You had blood in your hands from the many hopes you had squeezed to nothingness and you pranced around like a free man, for you were free. And I never learned to set myself free.

Some lyrics hit the roof for me, certain beats stirred a deeply buried cocktail of emotions. I was never free to begin with. But I coped and I healed and I grabbed life by the balls and boy did I have a ball. I was happy, except for one wish, a sweet little victory I wish I could witness with my own eyes, in this life, not in the next or the one after.

In the silent ride I did not look at you nor you at me. I wanted to, so bad, but I was too afraid to look at the guilt-free you. To a free you that I despised so much. If I could summon all dark spirits in the sky I would and send it in a fireball to you. And I would watch you burn as you had seen me burn.

And that would be the day that I would be free.