Everyone is always
looking at the thick
dark streak on the
right side of my chest
and they always ask
where it came from
as though the answer
should be something
easy to tell.
But it's not easy to
tell people about the
feeling that settles in
my stomach when
everything slows
down and I can
see the scene unfolding
behind closed eyes,
tightly shut.
It's not easy to tell people
how it felt to see the
other driver's face as
the tip of his car
touched ours,
or how it feels to have
nothing to hold onto
as everything spins
and I can't breathe.
Calling 911 isn't as
heroic as it seems
because the whole time,
I'm shaking because
how do I tell them
what happened and
be calm especially
if it only happened seconds ago?
How can I explain
how it felt to be covered
in glass and find it
tucked between my teeth
later on?
How do I explain
what it felt like to have
only one thing holding
me back from flying through
the shattered windows
and having this constant
reminder every time I
look in the mirror?

I can't.