laniah moon age 17
digital and poetry, 2015
OUT OF GAS
Drive your conscience into thinking that
the preconceived tendency to shift your gear into neutral ,is all just a shutter in the engine as you contemplate the decisions of making a right or a wrong.
You unconsciously start to fill your head with void muddling your thoughts with contamination like that oil that you just changed the other day.
In order to start that car back up and get it running smoothly again.Because before it was sputtering spontaneously and spitting up insults behind the VROOM that your car was making.
Leaving you to lose your words as if you can't find the next next destination in your gps, as the recorder says, "WRONG TURN,Redirecting life down another street.Calculating deterrents and difficulties in the distance."
If only driving was just that easy.And whoops you accidentally caused a scene. Cops called, life ended, right turn down a wrong path.
Swerve fails blackness all in the blink of an eye. Engine sound cut short.Silence fills the open space. Endlessly the suffering keeps driving even though someone's life have stopped.
Pause.Brake.No.Stop. Are all screeching from the wheels as tires burn rubber and the street smells of smoke and the the wails fill the air , and the possibilities of going further than this has come to an end.
Because guess what sweetheart, you ran out of gas. Barely driving on fumes as you feel yourself lurching to a halt that could never be started up again.
As your engine cuts off , your battery runs dead and everything outside that car stays together as you fall apart internally