take away my ability to dream.
so there is one less reality,
in which,
you break my heart.

you are not a rose
i would never compare you
to something so fickle
and temporary
you are a piece of
broken handcrafted
glass
misunderstood
dangerous
but beautiful

the first thing i see is headlights.
the beam is so intense,
it startles me.
i hear the rush of wind,
circling around me,
whipping against my warm skin.
the light is approaching rapidly,
piercing my eyesight,
blinding my vision.
the blare of a horn,
sends my ears ringing.
the last thing i see is darkness.