my journey home

The shadows move like oars
peddeling against the flow of this bus
closer to this final destination,
the more frantic the oars pace.
On this journey home.

Heaters blare out whitenoise
tying a dirty sticky burning knot inside
outside the rain beats down cold,
head cools against the window.
On this journey home.

The opposite flow headlights
shoot pastlike stars during warp speed
they disappear into the distance,
gone, like my hopes and dreams.
On this journey home.

Phones aggressively beeping
frustratingly, not alone in this coffin
caught coversations confuse me,
like those voices in my head.
On this journey home.

My mind can no longer wander
trapped like my body, stiff, creeks like
this lumpy seat I'm stuffed in
I'm almost regretably there.
On this journey home.