accident #453

you hover behind me
a glittering cloud of dust
a galaxy light-years away
yet still so close that
your reflection
in my rearview mirror
occasionally blinds me
and forces me onto your path
again.

i launch through the windshield
at a speed that would have allowed me
to run between you and goodbye a million times.
your face shines in every shard of glass
lips trace their jagged edges over my skin
freckles scatter into my palms
eyes pierce through my ribcage.
i could never breathe when you were around;
now i only choke on my own fragments.

i try to pick myself up
drag my shredded heart onward
let go of another layer
left behind on the pavement.
crimson mantras drip from my mouth:
“let each scar remind me
to kiss my own wounds.”
“i will not look into a mirror
until i can remember
what i look like
without you.” ♦