when your car flips & you are in it,
the crashing down upon the road,
upside down & your head hits the glass
with shards & blood everywhere,
everything slows down to the minute.
every next move, every next face, every
next smile, every next joke, every next bit of
your personal tragedy,
comes at you like a speeding bullet in slow
motion---and you want to watch every groove
of its every turn before it hits you in the chest.
coming so close to death without prior knowledge
of such an event opens your eyes to the fragility of
your existence---it shows you that there is nothing
to tear about---anyone who would suffer would still
your own death would only affect others.
coming into this world as an evolutionary accident,
without any purpose or meaningful iota of existence
your flame can be blown out just as quick &
there is no basking glow at the end of some tunnel---
there is nothing beyond the final closing of those eyes,
but one can tell you,
one who has undergone a personal tragedy,
wherein the human body is shown for the oddly matched
up parts of brittle being that it truly is,
that those that help you along the way back into
are the people who were
“just doing their jobs,”
but instead, you yourself know that
they could never be paid enough &
no amount of words could thank them
for never losing their cool.