Photo: Elizabeth Wei


your mouth tastes like scrap metal

bloody burns like tire tracks over my spine

hey babe, look out—

are those glass shards in your eyes or tears?

somewhere along the line i unbuckled my seatbelt

i’m not sure why.

the car smells like fruit punch and courage

the passenger side has crumpled like a collapsed lung

i heard your wrist snap like

a pencil breaking?

a psyche shattering?

i leaned over to vomit out the fractured window

for some reason, i think i love you more.