I begin to analyze my surroundings and realize that the highway I am speeding on is much like my life.

I’ve been speeding for quite some time through it, and I think it just might be time to slow down and take in the scenery.

As a child, I skipped that exit and proceeded forward thinking that I already knew how to get to my destination without taking the exits everyone else did.

Little did I know that no one driving on this highway knows their end destination until it’s too late.

Little did I know that skipping the exits would affect my knowledge further down the road.

I knew very little and wanted many.

I suppose in a sense I am approaching the exit of “Adulthood”.

Many of the signs yield warnings, but if you’re going too fast, you can’t really read them now can you?

Slowing down, my past grows but a faint image in the rear view mirror.

I pass my innocence, and wave gently. Things were fragile back then.

I pass my adolescence, and wave timidly. Things toughened up and I lost innocence along the way.

I enter the present. Taking a deep breath, I wave goodbye to that too.

Too long has it been that I’ve been in the same lane on the same path.

Too long has it been that I have held on to the past and refused to take the leap forward.

Too long has it been that I have been speeding my way through life.

This highway holds a long road, and instead of being the first to win the race, it is time I made my own pace.

I’ve been holding on so dearly to the beautiful innocence that a young mind has, that I’ve forgotten to take that beauty and let it bloom.

Fasten your seat belts, I am taking that exit and no longer looking back.

It’s 3 AM and I’ve set my car at a cruising speed of endless miles per hour.

The sting from the bleach teases her dark hair into a dirty blonde.

It suits her intentions, her need to blend in for the moment, and the ultimate transition to new plans.

She remembers the days when her intentions were simple, wholesome, and perhaps normal.

A house, family, maybe even love, but that changed as time passed.

Time is plentiful, and the desire for adrenaline surpasses by far the entertainment that any human could ever provide willingly.

Legs stretched out in front of the window, she draws the city before her, but irony has it that the curtains are closed.

As in the atomic days, her drawings explode on paper without warning or notice.

Draw and exact copy, but make it the image from within.  

The eyes see no such creativity unless the mind pushes to the edge of limitation and scrutiny.

This confession, has meant nothing.