The Drive Home

The drive home, I know it like the back of my hand.

I drive these roads subconsciously,

While my mind drives too,

A million miles apart from me.

The wind in my face,

The cold on my skin.

The view is a backdrop,

Everything is just a blur.

I think of the past,

I think of the future,

I think of the miles I have left.

And before I know it I'm home.