High beams,
Stop signs,
Red lights,
Where we met,

Crisscrossed on a journey pre-written,
Keep moving forward, they said,
What they failed to ever mention,
Was forward isn’t always straight,

You were the first right turn,
Blazing trails into unknowns,
Driving down the wrong side,
Of one-way roads,

You were the second right turn,
The thrill of the bumpy ride,
Promising myself I could handle it,
So long as I knew when to stop,

You were the third right turn,
The vast expanse of nothing new,
The repeating hazard signs,
On the trail back to the familiar,

You were the fourth right turn,
The false retellings of new beginnings
From the same starting position,
Still looped around in “what if”s

Meet me at the junction of us,
Where everything we are met,
Where the traffic lights told us,
When to stop and go,

Meet me there,

Let me see what’s left.



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Frankhie Muthumbi

Frankhie Muthumbi


Perfectly Imperfect || Human, Alexithymiac Poet, Writer, Musician