Don't get into that car I scream
But I am trapped on the opposite side
of plastic window panes
Don't take her away
she's barely sixteen
all alone this time
(God, I'm glad its not me)
Don't get into that car I whisper
to a black Toyota Camry
sitting in the street
waiting, just waiting
for its quarterly visit
Don't get into that car I exclaim
to a black and white bumper sticker
that says "read" in chunky (ironic) block letters
Don't get into that car I choke out
to the four wheeled death trap
that takes away my sister
on an eight hour journey
back to childhood misery
that I myself
have only just aged out of
Don't get into the car I say
to the exhaust that's left in my sister's
wake.
(knowing it will make no difference)