
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.