Stalled
stalled
she pushed the throttle, her engine roared
yet she stood still
her mind raced like a couple of teenagers- late at night, pushing pedal to the medal
on a lone stretch of beach kicking up dirt, indigo steam pumping out of the exhaust pipes
bright’ s on shinning the dark empty roads
1,2, 3, flag is down and she is off- whoosh there she her goes....
0-80 in one split second
wheelies popping, 2 wheels off the ground taking curves in a dangerous manner.
out of control
yet her body couldn’t move
brain zaps, sparks ignited, you could smell the fire
smoked apple wood
pleasing for a moment then rancid to her senses
not translating to make her will move
clutch screeched- tires blown out with a thump, flat like a teenagers chest, she knew she was screwed and couldn’t do a damn thing about it
she sits as the engine catches on fire
see’s the flames but can’t move
her brain begins to hurt as she’s clutching the steering wheel. fingers gripping so tight you have to peel her fingers off for her to settle down
breath comes in short spurts, body still
she has no skills but to talk and charm
she has to guide herself, sometimes she can not catch her breath
she still cooks and sometimes cleans but always makes sure her daughter is cared for
if only the car would move when the throttle is pushed to its max
it just stalls
it’s battered and taped together so her insides don’t fall out
yet the fire in her mind burns, can’t extinguish her thoughts
and she is stuck once again
Copyright © Roberta Bisgyer | Year Posted 2016
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