I turned left on the road,
Right into the oncoming traffic.
I didn’t want to slam on my brakes
So I didn’t.
I felt the pulse of the last beat of music.
Pulsing through me,
Pulsing through the inflated airbag.
Pulsing through the shrapnel that struck my skin,
Like nails to an already deflating tire.
I was the deflating tire.
As I sunk onto the dashboard,
As my limp body bled out,
As I let myself die right in my own hands.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems

Share This Poem