Wait, what?

Back roads brake lights light up back home.
Calm, cold, or windy nights we still drive.
Eyes open wide as space. Slide across the interstate.
Missing exits, missing people, recognizing geometric shapes.

We always stay out late.
I have this theory that waking up in a car means that you're still dreaming.
So if you ever change your mind
and decide that it might be worth the drive, then just drive.
So we just drive, careless and full of smiles
while the radio plays on the way to some basement.

We do it for the sentiment.
It started as a self-asserted promise.
And now the moon hangs low over us as we travel to some new destination.
I will be okay. Everything.