and oblivious to know
I’m crumbling to pieces.
But I don’t stop or slow down.
Because if I stop,
I might collapse and never get back up.
I weave through traffic,
blow through yellow lights,
take the next turn.
I don’t care where it leads.
And then?—
I'm on a bridge,
a river on both sides,
me in the middle,
begging the concrete to snap.
And the second I hit the interstate,
I roll the windows down
and crank the volume up until it hurts.
The bass drills through the doors,
rattles my ribcage,
pierces my eardrums,
crawls into my chest,
and pounds harder than my heart.
Lyrics cut through me,
louder than the words screaming in my head.
Then I open my mouth?—
And a held scream rips out.
Loud. Raw. Ugly.
Vicious enough to crack open my chest
so the infection pours out.
Him. The disgust. All of it.
