I dream in glass

broken

shattered.

I dream in smoke

waking

for gasping breaths in which I find myself

chocking

on fire

and fumes.

I close my eyes and I can feel the car crunch into me

head on collision

and Mr.

born 1951

slamming his black trunk into me

a sudden

slap.

Glass

and air bags

dry sobs

and the fear of death

swimming

with the realization that I'm alright.

I remember drowning

internally

from the smoke

and falling to the ground once I got the door open

crawling

like a frightened child

to the back of the car

my neck bloody

my chest bruised.

"Are you alright"

9-11 calls

pain

questions

and heart rates.

I will always have a special place in my heart for the Kent Fire Department and Paramedic unites.

Stretchers

and blue skies filled with clouds

a plane flying over head

and lovely gentlemen holding my hands and telling me that everything would be alright.

I dream in glass now

broken

and

shattered.

I dream in smoke now

always waking

for gasping breaths in which I find myself

chocking

on fire

and fumes.