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Ren Sturgis Dec 2021
oh ****
speckled glass litters my hair
life flashes before me
blinking yellow and red
blood drips to the ground
An accident that occurred in 2018
Matt Martin-Hall Oct 2020
A swerve and crumple

the too-low Miata meeting
the steel of a
semi's rear.

top speed impatience

a mangled massacre
of twisted plastic and metal.

Bone just powder in
a pillow of pink
pulverized flesh.

my jaw agape as I pass too slow-

existential dread is the hand
contorted upward
a few fingers missing
or lost in the mass-

A horn brings me back.
People too late
to care.

I contemplate stopping
but I'm late too-
and there's nothing to salvage
for me here.
Witnessed a brutal death today. I think I'm still processing, but writing helps. It was disturbing.
DT Brewer Apr 2019
One day death came knocking on my door
But I was not ready for death

Please go knock on someone else’s door I yelled
As I struggled to take another breath

It was then that I had made up my mind
Fight like hell
Because I was not ready to leave everything behind

As I eventually pulled myself from the smoky car
Strangers quickly became caretakers that caught my fall
And I was not afraid anymore
Because death had simply checked in on me then had moved along
m Dec 2018
My mind could not conjure up the notion that the word, the name, meant something. A-n-n-a. I looked. I looked: she stared back the same. Unknowing, unfamiliar. I wanted to remember, I wanted to.

7 a.m, in the crawlspace underneath the house, flashlight grasped in my hand, sweat from my forehead plastering my hair against it. It smelled like dust. I inched forward on my stomach, writhing as a worm. My body seizing against dirt and webs. I yelled out her name. Just to see. Just to test if my mouth still knew how to speak.



There. In the corner. I flicked my light against a box with tape on the side and her name written on over it in marker. I whispered it to make sure. Anna. One more time. Anna. I sunk my face into the ground. My breath, soft from my lips but coarse in form, disrupt the filth, made me cough. I crawled over to her with ease, as if the bones in my body were pushing me, the muscles guiding me; these pulsing veins, telling me.

When I opened the box, the first thing I saw was her, smiling back at me in the form of a memory. July 1996, our wedding framed around sanded wood, with splinters etching at the sides, aching for a hold on them. And I cradled her, despite this. Despite my skin giving in.


I almost forgot.

My head was hurting again. I blamed it on the suffocating of the casket underground enveloping me, not the staples buried into the skin of my skull, not the remembrance that underneath piles of dirt, her body was just a stack of old bones with only a stone to tag her as proof she was once living.

Anna. My Anna. I cradled the picture against my chest. I clung to her.

My light began to flicker, a spider crawled across my finger. Anna was diminishing, like a ghost, like a gentle sweep of navigating headlights turning a corner, creeping away, and suddenly gone.

Anna. A-n-n-a. I shut my eyes. I could finally remember.
moments descend on me.
Dany The Girl Nov 2018
It was a crystal clear night in the winter months.
Though for some reason, the lake wasn't frozen over.
I could see the moon's reflection, and was standing at the shore
when two pairs of footsteps approached me.
A pier manifested over the lake,
leading to a white house on the other side.
"Hey," he said.
I was so shocked that I became a statue.
"It's okay. I'm not angry at you anymore."
He looked at me with a genuine smile. I missed being his friend,
even in light of what happened between us.
I was silent. I didn't say a word.
I don't think I needed to.
He accepted my silent apology.
"Grab my hand and don't let go."
I took his hand, paler than the moonlight,
but warmer than fire.
We walked across the pier, just me, him, and Hunter;
Hand in hand, almost skipping.
The stars were endless, and the temperature was surprisingly warm for the middle of the night in the winter.
We got inside the house and the three of us sat down on the couch.
He gave me a Gameboy and we started to play Pokémon.
Just the three of us.
Like nothing had ever happened.
And I think I miss him more than the anger that I held for him.
More than words can say.
Jason, I know you know this, but I'm so so sorry. I wish I could have talked to you about it. I'm so sorry.
Dany The Girl Nov 2018
I had a dream of a dead friend once.
Words cannot describe how it made me feel.
He's been dead since May 2017,
but I feel him alive everywhere around me.
I see him,
In Garrett's curly hair.
I see him,
In the fiery red locks that Bridget has.
I see him,
In the blue eyes of my best friend.
I see him in the freckles on Julayne's face.
A long time ago,
I would have said that I hated him.
Maybe a part of me still does.
But a part of me also wishes that I could have said my peace
before the inevitable death came to be.
Part one of 2 parts.
An ad in the LA Times
Pictured a jewelry store in Beverly Hills
Somewhere off Wilshire
A golden band modeled after an Egyptian original
Mother wanted it and so we went
We sat on tuffets of crushed velvet and
She bought it
replacing her wedding band
Which I never did find.
It was pretty but
what other significance this meant
regarding her husband she did not tell

She was struck walking on an off-ramp
on the 10.
Heading east?
How did she get there?
I asked her in the hospital
On the gurney she shook her head
And said she didn’t know.
That’s Alzheimer’s for you.
The ring is gone.

Father took his off well before she passed
and left it on the top of his dresser.
Kellin Aug 2018
daddy fractured our world,
titled it off it’s axis, sent it
careening out of control.
that was before the day
his own impairment
made him overcorrect,
the mercedes onto unpaved
shoulder, then back
across two lanes of traffic,
and over the double yellow
lines, head-on into traffic.
that was before the one-ton
truck sliced the passenger
side wide open. that was
before premature death, battered
bodies, and scars no plastic
surgeon could ever repair.
yes, that was before
matthew May 2018
the sound of a car accident is deafening.
time almost seems to stop,
as shards of glass and metal fly through the air,
in what feels like slow motion.
as the airbag goes off,
you wonder if these will be your last moments.
and when the crash is over,
the ringing stays in your ears
as if the sound is etched into your brain.
the smell of burnt rubber and engine smoke will soon fill the air,
a scent you won't be able to forget.
you take a deep breath and close your eyes-
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