And The Door Slams Shut

Her knuckles grew white.
As it flowed through her arm;
Palms Sweating,
Mind Racing,
She stepped out from,
The delusion life.
Removing the cloth
From her arm
She wondered at
What shed done.

Grabbing her bike,
She tried to
Escape the shadows
Drawing ever closer
Silently fighting to
Entangle themselves
Around her.

By this time
She was gliding
Down the road on her bike,
When,
It hit her.

The driver never saw her
Coming round
The corner.

And now...

She lay
Across the hood,
Head resting,
On the cracked
And shattered glass
While her blood
Ran Down the windshield.

Still breathing.

Into the distance,
She stared.
The drugged stupor
Having long ago
Faded away
Back into sobriety,
She wondered, why
She still saw him there.

Smiling at her

He looked the same.
Even though,
It had been 3 years.
Yet still he wore,
The same suit
He had worn to prom
Even the little stain
Was Still There.
She had made spilling
Her punch on his jacket.

She tried to smile back
But found, she couldnt,
Her jaw had broken...
A tear, from her
One good eye
Raced down
Her bloody cheek
And joined the puddle
Now forming on the hood.

She Closed her eyes,
And drifted slowly away.
Imagening him by her side again,
And she slipped slowly off
Into that place between places.