kansas

that voice told my heart to turn around, but my heart wouldn't shake, that voice was so persistent. i disconnected the brakes. and i pushed that pedal down. i watched the fuel gauge as it went south. and i pushed that pedal down. my engine sputtered and died right in front of her house. her father was stationed overseas and her mom was buried in the backyard. she didn't have a future there, but she had five gallons of gasoline. she packed her things inside my car. and in the kitchen by the phone with a felt-tip pen, she wrote a note. she said, "daddy i can't take it anymore. they tell me there's a world out there, but i just have to make sure.", she turned around and took a last look and then she shut that beater door. and i pushed that pedal down.