Wreckage

Wreckage...that's all we are now - missed turns, hairpin curves, blind spots and oil slicked roads as we sped recklessly along with lies and anger our high octane
rocket fuel that cranked us
from zero to sixty in nothing flat
glass daggers from exploding windshields
seeking out the jugular of tender
throats and not a seat belt between us
when with the brakes screaming
and burning in raucous protest
we went crashing through the guardrail
of love's last shred of dignity where
bent on murder and revenge we destroyed
any hopes of our survival as we flew
over the edge, launched into space
where we soared free falling
our terror filled mouths
puking fear, loss and sorrow
until the bone crushing reality
smashed into us headfirst
landing in a smoking, twisted, broken
pile of scrap with two bloody mangled
hearts that were dead on arrival