Where To Next?

Miles and miles of road.
Empty, lifeless, hell-bound.
I look back to the cold
atmosphere of the last town.

I've left behind a memory--
Scarred, broken, faded.
It's one of just you and me,
our relationship, degraded.

Every time it happens,
I run on days like today.
Scenery is misshapen
when I chase the pain away.

Now fifty past the limit
I've forgotten your face.
My plan works too legit
to believe I can erase

what happened not long ago.
Was it days? Or hours?
For now I'll lay low.
This time is ours.

Well, it used to be.
That's what I remember.
Maybe I just dreamed
of late nights in December.

The cold ones that you held
like me, wrapped in your arms.
Of warm fire you smelled,
You did me no harm.

At least, that's what you said.
But you said a lot of things.
Like, "Let's go ahead and
fly to Colorado Springs."

Little did I know we never
escaped the cold like we meant.
Now without you, I can shiver
and pronounce you hell-bent.

I left loved ones
just to make this with you.
But these are just reruns
of the show you hated, too.

We went places, lots of them.
Invisible towns like Fort Worth.
But where you're heading,
has no compass marking North.

The moral, I guess,
is something too simple to
have taken long to press.
Just do not pursue
what was never there in the first place.