A Cautionary Tale

You always talked about
going back to the Mountains.
Said you liked the cold
and loneliness. You told me I reminded
you of the Mountains. Always joked that
I was bleak but beautiful just like them.
That night we both stumbled out of the bar.
Clambered into your car.
I could taste the sting of whiskey
On your lips and your kisses were like ash
From the cigarette smoke.
As we drove on the sky was black
And littered with stars.
Who knew they foretold the crash?
The headlights hit us hard.
Scrape of metal on metal as sparks
Leapt over the bonnet.
And your name was the last thing
I screeched into the dark.
Wake to a sea of tubes and wires
And the beeping of the monitor.
But the green zigzags could never
Show that my heart was broken.
Memory was in fragments.
Just like the windscreen.
I asked where you were.
Turns out you ended up somewhere
Cold and lonely.
Just like you always wanted.