“Car Accident, 14 Months Going” by Sarah Thursday


Everything with you was
like a car accident,
the kind someone expects

 

months before, but when
the point of impact arrives,
no one is ever prepared.

 

Seatbelts and airbags don’t
stop the severity of its
suddenness or the metal

 

frame collapsing and crushing
through skin and bone. I can
brace my elbows to my chest

 

stop the outside coming in,
but the forces stay in motion
and you crush my heart

 

in love. You leap out just
at the edge of the overpass
leaving me descending forward

 

in suspension. I chose
to keep my door locked
and feel the fall, feel

 

the collision. I still won’t take
one single moment back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sarah Thursday was mostly raised in Long Beach, California. She teaches 4th and 5th grade, is obsessed with music, and has only recently dove into poetry again. She has forthcoming or has been published in The Long Beach Union (CSULB), The Atticus Review, Eunoia Review, East Jasmine Review, The Camel Saloon, poeticdiversity, Chaparral, and Pyrokinection. Recently, she has become the editor of Cadence Collective: Long Beach Poets, almost by accident, but completely on purpose.  sarahthursday.com