Within an instant,
my life could've been gone.
I still remember the pain I felt,
and the noise of the collision.

I didn't even have time to scream.
It happened so fast.
I had just enough time to remember the boys to my left and right,
then my head made contact with the dashboard.

I felt pain,
but I didn't care.
Those around me were shaken up.
One was angry while the other screamed.

We were okay.
Beaten up,
but okay.
It just seemed like a painfully bad dream.

"I'm so sorry.. I'm so sorry"
Those were his words.
The guy who almost killed us.
I didn't understand why he did what he did.

His passenger was ******.
She could've been dead too.
She cried and I cried at the sight of her.
I couldn't be angry right now.

The ambulances said they were surprised to see me alive.
They checked me over several times,
because I shouldn't of been okay...
but they said "God must have been with you".

Then they told us why the man did what he did.
He was so intoxicated,
he chose alcohol over our lives,
and over his own life.

I forgive him,
even though I can't get in a vehicle without panicking now.
He made a mistake,
but I am alive.

But for all those who still think a drink is worth risking your life,
please hear me out.
Your life can be altered in an instant.
Whether you feel invincible or think you're use to it.

You can end up in jail,
end up being responsible for someone's death,
or end up dead yourself.
A night of fun isn't worth your life or anyone else's.

They say you can’t keep your prying eyes off of a w r e c k.

The extended siren diminishes even as it creeps closer,
the road only grows harder, pierced glass and incarnadine blood.

Clear in your head where you're setting those sights,
disregard the stench of burnt metal and the doused fire of the passenger seat,
block out the screams that streams into your ears.

There is nothing to be curious about.

The slow, infantile pause while your pitying gaze
shifts across the midnight scene
is the only thing the jaded victims can feel,
beside the rusted pain destroying their decaying bodies.

Strangers are the distraction from the d e s t r u c t i o n.

i was there and i watched it happen
the clouds danced
to the rhythm of the music
and so did i
they were chromosomes
tightly coiled
into dreams
i was laughing
laughing, and smiling and they kept asking why
but the only valid answer was why not
and she was packing up the bowl
and the beat was bumpin'-
then something
a direct hit
ouch
glass all over me just to remind me how fragile i
am
woe

Fall for a poet because-
She will place her soft, tense lips upon your flesh and it will cause a burning sensation like no other
( due to the most beautiful poetry being engraved upon you. Quite like a tattoo )

//

Fall for a poet because-
Her words will possess such power.
The power to erupt volcanoes within you
( also she will know how to cause earthquakes that cause violent storms  which result in storms blazing hard in your very eyes )

//

Fall for a poet because-
I gurentee you that you will never find a raw-er form a love. A love that is so kind and so pure
( a love that has the potential to wreck beautiful art or create breathing trees )

//

Do yourself a favour darling,
Fall for a poet because-
Pieces of you will now be found in all that she creates.

When they asked me who I was I gave them a simple reply, but what I wanted to say was...
I'm a mess!
I never sleep.
I can't control what I eat.
I'm an emotional and nervous wreck.
But I can lie and say I'm trying my best. (I'm not)
I still have a long ways to go.
After all, I am a work in progress, you know?

Take me up. Let the devil take me up, like the morning when we left ourselves. The ides are upon our lives, maybe backstabbing partners really won't pay the bills. The irreverent god, the irrelevant clause that speaks too soon, comes upon the midnight waning sky. Like the moonful of ham in the stock of the flesh, second helpings because I could not resist.

Pick me up. Pick me up. Like a devil born again in the flesh. Your womb is a rotten tomb of forced reclusion, I'm wide awake before I can even sleep. The Time, our heaven is pyre, we're in it now like you thought it had been. But the flesh never whispers when I tried to break it in, it only clung to me like pre-used clothing.

Write it up, tomorrow we make Japan. Tomorrow, the island is our vesper. Your nine lives have come, and you'd decided to trade all of your needs to please me. We intertwined into an elusive butterfly, you're dead inside my beak, chewy, squishy, crunchy meat. You're eleven but you've never tasted better.

Your lies are so stupid, I had to have you in supine. I had to lie to myself to placate me. I survived by being a witness to a life. A dusky, grayish shadow four feet yonder.