When you ask if I'm tired I feel like I'm being attacked
As we drive around late at night with the heat drying out our skin
I roll my window down and light another strawberry cheyenne and taste pot because I love packing the end with it
The cold wind whips at my fingertips as the ash falls off of the end
I'm not paying attention to anything except the sound of the harsh wind
In a place so ugly it's amazing how much beauty can exist in just one small moment