Trigger Warning

They told me not go. I didn’t listen.
I wouldn’t waste my summer as my parents
withered toward their winters.
Through a window I emerged like youth, invincible.

He waited for me, smoke churning
impatiently from his silver Mustang’s exhaust.
Chaos danced like lightning in his eyes,
his sharp cologne clasping me.

Just kids when we met, he
fought my third grade bullies,
I helped him cheat on spelling tests.
His charming boyish grin flashed,

“This is a night you will never forget.”
Brash, cliché , but still I blushed.

That’s what kids do- fall in love.
He fell for me the way fruit falls
off a tree, rolling with a thud until
I picked and polished him.

Carefree, hair loose, windows down.
He cut through me, blues eyes like
a storm forming, my Tempest.
Empty cans rattled and rolled on the floor.

We drove round and round,
hugging tight corners,
my hand on his ripped Levi’s.
I wish that was all I remembered.

It came out of nowhere.
Breaks screamed in the night,
flesh slammed and flailed against the hood,
heavy breathing the lone sound in the still air.

Lights of the car flickered off,
engine solemn with a click of a key.
Ears ringing, my head splitting.
His eyes – the blue had gone.

Thick crimson congealed with dirt, a deer lay motionless,
nestled in its own intestines.
“This is your fault, I should leave you here!”
he shouted more, “the silver paintjob’s ruined!”

Closer something hummed then roared
Laughter followed behind a pair of headlights.
Our soft flesh slammed and flailed against
a burnt orange paintjob, now ruined.

My new legs are difficult, but
stronger than the old ones.
I didn’t cry at his funeral,
I’m still there, still standing in the road.

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