crash

Do you ever dream about car crashes? Not other people crashing, but yourself? You watching the 18-wheeler pulling up alongside you in your rear view, seeing it in your blind spot out of the corner of your eye, hearing the thunder of it's wheels as they spit up gravel and roll along the pavement. You pulling the wheel hard to the right and swerving right under its rear wheels, watching the hood collapse under the weight and feeling the pulse of the engine and pistons collapsing and watching the windshield implode and shards of glass everywhere and the windows exploding outward and the tires bursting and then flipping, rolling, airbags exploding and heat and metal tearing apart and flipping outward in this great movie trailer quality crash and feeling every shake and knowing just knowing that you might not make it and feeling pieces of metal or glass or plastic pierce your skin and your seatbelt cutting off your oxygen as your heart beats faster and faster and finally, anticlimactically slowing, metal on cement and shooting up sparks as your car slows, upside down or on its side, wheels still spinning and fluid still pumping through the destroyed engine and the airbag now collapsed but the heat still on your face. Maybe you make it. Maybe you don't. The police and ambulances and fire trucks show up and traffic stops as people drive by, craning their necks to see if maybe you're ok and it's all a waste or maybe there's a body laying in a heap on the side of the road and just for that glimpse the hour of backup was all worth it.

Yeah, me neither.

currently listening: plain white t's - hey there delilah