This is not new. I haven't been on in a while, and I just realized I had this. I know, the random irony and dry humour isn't so fitting...
Dancing With The Brakes Off
the beeping and the flashing lights,
It's pounding into your head,
Hitting your brain, sending shockwaves of pain,
Down to your arms, and then back up.
A brief moment of pure panic,
Minutes of dark confusion,
Lifting up your head,
feeling the blood push through your veins,
And rush past arteries;
Feeling your heart, pounding in your chest.
Up from the front wheel,
Mind up in a blurry mess,
The sound won't stop intruding,
Erasing all thought from your mind.
Try to move.
Right around your chest,
Plus your head, blood sinks down,
Soaking your skin in vibrant red,
In the dark of night,
Over bruised deep purple skin.
You put your wobbly, disconnected arms out,
Hold on tight to anything there is,
The wheel and the door handle,
Trying to pull yourself up,
Until your body is tugged right back down.
Seatbelt's on, holding fast in any situation,
You unclick it from it's hold,
Trying to ignore the warm liquid on your hands,
As the door is desperately pushed open,
And raggedly, you tumble out.
Wishing you could just go to sleep,
Cool night air slips into your lungs,
Only drawing attention to the pain,
As a car stops, somewhere nearby,
The lights registering far away in your mind.
Set down on the ground, like a dropped toy,
Blood already drying in an evening breeze,
Your knees were too wobbly to work,
So you settle on trusting your ass to hold you up,
While a stranger calls a designated number.
The flashing lights, coming from your car,
The unstoppable alarm, as if mocking you,
In a stupid triumph, the vehicle has won against you.
It pitched a trick of the eyes, with faulty safety gear,
Except for the seatbelt, of course.
Blurry words meet your ears,
In the form of a concerned someone,
Obviously clouded by the noise and blood,
And if it were any other situation….
But you can't even reply, you find.
You set your mind on sitting,
And waiting for the ambulance,
To come and take matters as their own.
You won't have to care, once their here.
But the car still keeps flashing.
Maybe it's a bad sign,
But the noises fade inside your mind,
And break to music, quiet and calm.
Violins and piano's fight, dance, play,
Push their way into your thoughts.
Now seems like a good time to sleep,
And the sirens start to sound,
Somewhere far within your head,
The large white car swerves on roads,
Weaving it's way to you.