A Mourning Excerpt

Car companies sell to kill

innocence,

to kill you, 

to kill me.

Screaming metal 

death trap, 

with four doors 

and no way out.

Maybe she was too sleepy, 

maybe it was suicide.

We all died with her.

A million sunsets 

radiating sorrow and apology, 

cannot erase the blood and hair 

of my nightmares.