wrote on: December 11th, 2008
Close Call
Miranda Smith
My vision is blurry,
My mind is foggy,
My speech is slurry,
But I can drive.
I slam my keys in the ignition,
Bringing the car to life.
Like a speeding bullet, my tires skid over the street and I zoom off.
But I can drive.
Driving is boring.
I drive with one hand.
Soon I am snoring,
And I roll onto land.
But I can drive.
I grew conscious as I swerved off land and into the wrong lane.
I jerked the steering wheel to the right and I heard the honking of the angry driver I almost collided.
But I can drive.
My buzz kills away as I realize what just happened, or rather, what almost happened, and what could have happened.
I hyperventilate and begin to weep.
No more will I drink poison and think irrationally.
I admit my mistake,
And I can’t drive.
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