i drove alone to Buffalo and scratched a heart around your name on
every rest stop vending machine i passed along the way..
(i'd taken speed for days)
i took picture from the car window, these colored blurs of time,
and left them for you by the pay phones because i can't call or write.
it's just been too much time.  the road was without winter glow just
dreary landscape and the whimper of the radio and a rubberband-
ed picture of your face around an old mix tape you'd made.  i still
think i'm going home, i packed my things in crooked lines, and
took a pill i nicknamed hope to change this mood of mine.  like a
mocking dog and pony show in the back rooms of my mind, like a
swim in the undertow, i can't see it but i sure feel it all right.
i miss you every night.
i miss you tonight.