Conversing with my Conscience

Between conversations with my conscience ,
when my shadow moves from behind me to before
me;
away from the passing lights,
all their names rush through my head.
There are good ones and bad ones, but there’s no “one”
There’s no one.
I’m home and I’m still not at home,
That’s a shame.
How far do you think you’re going to drive me?
I don’t want to have to walk in the rain.
I know He’ll walk with me, dodging drops together, 
but man am I going to get lost the minute I jump out of the moving car.