Keys

Afternoon skeleton keys of inebriation
slipping on its honey through a crack
in the mind’s door to yesterdays
as a journey of signs
read on the highway in the head.

But the ride was never alone
another’s hand was also on the wheel,
got to find the arch under which to pass
on this cruise out of sobs.

Radio tuned to every ballad
that is a saddle torch song,
it never kills the feeling
of being on rewind,
yet it allows the heart to hum
and vibrate another entrance
to the living room of serenity
where the television plays
epic happy endings
out of youth’s toy chest.

Wish this road was straight
had no detours into walls,
wish there was a destination
called peace
that didn’t end up
at some fast food café,
which only sells greasy lies
leaving a bitter aftertaste inside.