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Apr 2018
I am driving and it hits me.
No, literally, it hits me
I’m driving and I slam into the back of another car

When I get out to access the damage,
It looks like nothing has even scratched it
Until I get in and the right side blinker is going double its normal speed.

I guess this is the lesson where I learn
That not all broken things are visible from the outside
But, I drive the car anyway

I tell people the broken blinker is just a “bad habit”
Tell them that it wasn’t that bad anyway
Tell them that I still love the car
Why would I get the blinker fixed if I still love the car?

But -
I am so tired of making only left hand turns

What do I do if I try to get it fixed
And they ask what happened?

Do I tell them that my headlights weren’t the only things made of glass?

Do I tell them that loving you was like a magic trick?
Being sawed in half, over and over
Until I felt knives instead of hands when you held me?

Until I tasted someone else when I kissed you?
You were always such a good magician.

Always so good at disappearing
Always so good at being in two places at once
Being in my arms and his bed
Always so good at letting your assistant drown in this tank of water

And then
The show ends

And when the curtain falls, and the audience is sitting there, silent
And there’s no more applause for your stupid escape act
No more for you manipulating your way through these stupid handcuffs

They will ask how you did it
How the magician escaped without a single scratch
But I will not reveal the magician’s secrets.

Instead, I will smile.
I will tell them that you are like a postcard
Dated yesterday, marked “see you later”
How do you break up with a ****** message when you’ve already fallen in love with the view?

How do you leave someone when you can’t unlearn how to see their perfect postcard picture?

And then, again, I’m driving
On my way home from the grocery store and

I’m avoiding using my broken blinker
And I’m turning left, and left, and left
And three lefts dont make a right doesn’t mean that three wrongs do make a right
Or four, or five,
Did you tell him you loved him?

And
I wait for a note
For an “I’m sorry”
For anything

Except you’re just sitting there
And staring
Did you mean it?

Did you mean it
And I drive by your house
And around the whole town
You are there

In my steering wheel,
In my broken blinker,
And underneath my tires

I have not forgotten how to love you yet
But **** it.
I’m trying.
This is your best magic trick yet.

The way this noose still looks like a necklace and
I wait.
And I come up from under the water
And you are not there.

And I am cold
And gasping
Breathless

But
To me,
This is the kindest thing you have ever done.
This is the transcript of this piece. I did not write it. I just figured it was worth sharing.
Written by
Macie Goodspeed  16/F
(16/F)   
168
 
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