I keep being thrown into the ground

somebody

kissing whatever dying wish

that's supposed to be cracking against my lips

but my face

frees me

from the fallout

because I made it out

of that car

chocking on the stench

of another man's recklessness.

I think he saw my eyes

before he made his dying wish

and in the end

lived long enough

to watch me cry on the side of the road.

It was that moment

between

my place in the ground

and life

that I was strongest

and the most alive

(I felt no pain

when the car slammed against me,

you live on instincts

and heartbeats,

you breath in reasoning

and forget the meaning of doubt,

I felt no pain

until I fell against the pavement.)

Another reason to throw me into the ground.

I didn't say a prayer;

I just watched as the glass cracked

surrounding me

in metal

and memory.

Did I think?

Would it have been better if I had closed my eyes?

I wasn't ready-

I'll never be ready to be thrown in the ground,

Godless

creatures

as

we

are,

but if I could show you

I still wouldn't take you with me,

back to that moment

between

the ground, and when I was found.

Don't worry

I'll never take you there in this,

and I could never describe it right anyway.

I keep being thrown into the ground

and I'm not ashamed to say

that I can read God's motives like a book

(other then the usual bullshit)

trust me

when I say

I saw no white light

and I didn't feel the arms of the people that I have lost.

In the end there is just glass

and the instincts

to pull yourself out of the ground,

cold lips

kissing whatever dying wish

that should have been cracking against my lips.