The wheel clinched tight

Fingers numb and white

Hyperventilating

Counting to ten

Anxieties curse

Mind, a devine quality

Over....
Thinking

A flash of death as her passengers lay lifeless

Death

She pictures faces

A ****** mess

Stillness

Everyone sits singing and unblemished

A true definition of mangled point of view

A routine her mind has provided

Someone else hits the petal accelerating

She is familiar with picturing the world dying

She is now stamped with, "I'm part of the ****** up society"

Stay clear

She is endearing

The tea cup world believes she is dangerous