A little like poetry

fooling with death

fooling with death, just fooling with death

she walked along the edge of the pavement,
the wind rushing through her hair,
she could almost pretend she had a life.
living in her perfect world imaginations where she was a brilliant horse-back rider where the wind whipped her hair out of place,
or the most popular girl in school where she was driving a convertable and she was so used to the wind blowing her hair out of place.
"stupid wind" she'd be muttering to herself in her daydream except in real life,
she loved it, she loved the wind like this.
she looked up at the clear blue sky, the formless clouds.
oh how she wished she could fly away and join them.
"May i Lord?" she had asked so many times.

was it suicide to ask to float among the clouds,
to be taken out of her world so far from her perfect daydreams,
was it suicide?
was it wrong?

she'd always had a thing for hospitals,
loved them and wondered what it'd be like to be a patient.
but few people knew that.
she had this secret thing about car crashes too.
no one, besides the odd one or two knew that either.
less people really knew her nowadays

stopping to take in a deep breath,
she looked around her.
scuffing her shoe in the sand, she looked up at the sky,
then back at the road.
"when," she wondered to herself,
"when would the perfect car being driven at the perfect speed come?"
"when would it come,"
she asked aloud
"to take away my pain?"

sighing,
she said to herself,
"never. things never was what she wanted. not most of the time anyway."

giving up,
she continued walking the route back home.

then she tripped where bits of the sidewalk's edge had chipped off
she felt herself falling
the sun she found herself looking at seemed to blind her and she couldn't see anything else
she heard car tires screech

she felt her eyes closing,
it was like she was really tired and could barely keep her eyes open.
she let them close as she felt her own blood, still warm,
all around her, slipping under her fingers even.

with her index finger she wrote one word on the dry hard ground of the road.
she hoped that word would be able to tell the world,
or the people in her world,
everything she couldn't really say.
sorry
and this time,
it was for real

(c) xoxoCharis Vera @ 7:13:00 PM