Dead on arrival

Hear the engine scream
In this familiar hazy dream
Eighty, ninety — it’s all a blur
All these thoughts of her

Racing through the night
Unable to see the light
Completely out of control
Chaotic misery the goal

This car is past its limit
Glad I’m strapped in it
Expecting to go up in flames
No regrets, remorse, or names

Hurtling through the dark city
Blind from self-loathing pity
No brakes until the car gives out
And rolls to a stop, no doubt

I reach for another bottle
Already at full throttle
Not looking to slow down
Tired of wearing this crown

Teetering well past the brink
It’s time for one last drink
How long is the wick of a candle
Let’s see if this car can handle

The bridge is coming up quick
Shit, I’m starting to feel sick
Tachometer stuck in the red
Crash, bang, burn — I’m dead…

The angels surveyed the wreck
They were there to do their check
“Is this one worth keeping alive?”
“He continues to drink and drive.”

Huddled around to study the cases
Verdict written on their sad faces
Choices caught up to me that day
As my soul began to float away.

My name is Jason S. Sullivan. I’m a writer / poet from Arlington, Texas. Check out my other poetry at JasonSSullivan.com.