Goodnight to the
the months I spent in the
cars of people I would never know
crashing into the same walls,
the same driveways
a million times over
And I trace my bleeding head,
feeling the bone shattering
under my hands as they ask me
Do you know what year it is,
do you remember your name?
I stay silent and they drag it
through the house on a leash
It lies on the kitchen floor like
a dying dog, covered in the gore
of the crash it was found in
A mass of disjointed flesh
buckling legs and cracked ribs
I have never been good at letting
dead dogs lie, but with my finger
over the trigger, by God, I'll try.
21.09.2024