sábado, 12 de abril de 2025

Waving at passer's by

 dragged like roadkill
A piece of me is missing
I claw my way back to the roadside
This body is a mess

I cannot stand
my clothes are stained through
blood in pools insects bathe
emerge red and twitching

I want to live
My arm bearly grips the guard rail
the road that promised me
was filled with too many neon signs

bad drivers
blind curves
unpredictable wildlife
a million accidents

meaningless statistics
I prop myself up
blind my eyes in the sun now
as I bleed out to the silent humm of the afternoon sky

I await my lungs to fail
As the vulture gracefully lands upon the guardrail
Looks left and right in prayer
Observes my severed arm

blood drips the seconds away
tourists slow down to get a better look
Then speed up again pretending they saw nothing
I could almost wave

Dusk comforts
Sun abandons over distant hills
streaks of blood tinge the long cloud
breathing clicks and catches on ribs

I subside leaving from my bodily form
climbing up to the whisps of blood cloud
trapped in the day's transition
looking down now able to wave


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