Two dozen miles
Of knowing self-immolation:
Burning all the matches

Then digging deep
And burying myself
In the road.

A quick way out
That ends my pain
And helps keep me alive.


It’s been a stressful week, so I went out and left it all on the road yesterday. It hurt like hell, but that was exactly what I wanted and needed. Best part was holding off two guys on fancy carbon road bikes, who tried (and failed) to catch me in a five-mile, all-out drag race. Just like old times. And boy, it felt great. N.

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