A year has passed since I crashed my motorcycle.
The road rash had since been cast away.
The fast paced life was smashed together.
A singular bash that cached my memory.
Lights flash and whiplash has new meaning.
This thrash blinked my eyelash three days later.
Dreary forecast laid flabbergasted.

When she's here…
I crave motherly affection
I get discerning dissection
I see my pale complexion
I ignite her shopping obsession
I'm forced to give my attention
I explore every confession
I ignore every correction
I lose my own direction

When He's here.
When I have night terrors, he's next to me.
When I laugh, he smiles with me.
When I get stressed, he distracts me.
When I'm working, he follows me.
When I cry, he kisses my tears.
When I wander, he's always at my side.
When I became paralyzed, he became more alert.
When I need a hug, he accepts my one armed hug.

When I  have a Friday night...
When I have $57 to last me until late July...
When I have holes or stains in all my clothes... When I am more a burden, than not...
When I have a smile even though I'm lonely...
When I have lost my friends because I'm not convenient…
When I work myself sick for a $2 trip...
When I finally can't possibly give even just one more hand...

When I had two arms, I had ***.
When I had money, I had friends.
When I had two arms, I got invited out.
When I gave a performance, I had fans.
When I had two arms, I had careers.
When I had drugs, I had power.
When I had two arms, I could use a computer.
When I had something to steal, I had company.
When I had two arms, I got flirted with.
When I give free rides, I have passengers.
When I had two arms, men and women wanted to date me.
When I had fancy things, I was impressive.
When I had two arms, I had friends.

You piece of worthless ****
Hitting and motorcyclist a running away
Today and every hereafter, altered
Not my faltered driving
But your careless careening
Not screening the front of your bumper
That thump heard around my brains
Left to die
*******.
**** your existence.
**** your abandonment.
**** and positive luck that may EVER cross YOUR path...
The way you took my path away.

That slice of encapsulated salty fluid held tightly between windows lined with 4 millimeter long hairs
Suffice to say there are millions of colors that could bleed from that football shaped crevice
Even though it is the same sac of fluid I gaze towards on so many different occasions....
It's as if they tell a completely different story no matter how often I peer towards them.