Untitled Poem #17

When I find myself driving down an endless stretch of familiar and often taken roads, I will drum my fingers on the steering wheel, curse every red light, and press my foot harder upon the gas pedal. I have waited long enough, I will hiss under my breath, practically rolling through that stop sign near your house.

When I find myself at your front door, I will pause and collect myself, for I know I will be in shambles when I hear the sound of the lock unsticking, with you standing there in the doorway, smiling teeth and all.