Then it all stopped.
Blood on the rearview mirror,
tattered and torn, dripping like delicate lace down the windshield that was spiderwebed by this action of pain, and unseen beauty.
Metal torn into human flesh,
both by mingling and to mend their broken bones as to mend their broken souls.
Are you awake now?
Can you see?
Only when you smell the burning rubber,
Double with the blood and sweat of one whose hands are still grasping the steering wheel as a lost lover,
you can only then truly appreciate the throbbing feeling in your chest.
And that,
It did not stop.
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