my view from the driver's side
I think I could die
Right here in the driver's Seat
My tears blur the windshield
In a watery, blinding sheen
(no no it isn't rain)
And, oh god, they taste of kerosene
But this car isn't in drive
It hasn't even been started
I'm afraid that if I twist the Key
More than the ignition will be ignited
Growling like frenzied lions
Ripping me to pieces
Splayed across the Dashboard
In a gory mess my mother has to witness
In all it's heaving sputtering blubbering glory
That pain is a great alternative
To the squeezing fist around my heart
This poem is about:
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: