Ghost Driver

Numbness does not mean that the hurt goes away,
it becomes a dull throb instead of a piercing pain.

Did I dry my tears?
Or did I just run out?

It's so much darker in the passenger's seat,
soon enough I fall into sleep.

How long were my eyes shut?
How many days did I lose in the fog?

The auto-pilot light binks out of control.
The breaks go out and we start to roll.

And I am trapped with my ghost driver.

Does anyone see my hollow smile?
Will anyone notice that I am barely surviving?

If not, that's alright.
I am the one who tinted windows and locked doors.
I imprisoned myself in my own mindless mind,
where the ghost driver is thoughtless and rash.
Where no one can see that I am not really alive.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem

This Poems Story

This poem is about dissociating and going about daily life not truly seeing, hearing, or doing anything.