Somewhere In Alabama

Red velvet draped over a city that doesn't shine anymore. Fleeing town via the black highways. Hanging "do not disturbs" against every single mile marker.

My hands shake on their own. Just another failed attempt to shake it off. Every get well card has been marked return to sender. Split second thoughts of madness.

Drop them off and come back tomorrow is what they'll say. It's all a plot to give the masterminds behind counters and desks time to develop fiction inside a vile. Lately I only feel safe beside windows because the walls have lost my trust.

I think I'm ready...