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Telephone Pole
written by chaoticthoughts06:48 AM 11/12/04| The last time I saw you, I was crawling out of my car. Smashed into a tree with a telephone pole resting on top of it. Glass was all around, live wires sparking the cold wet grass, steam from the engine whistling through the crumbled hood. My door hardly opened, I had to force myself through. You were crying, yelling "Please don't be dead!" I sat there with the electricity flowing, igniting itself on dry leaves; wondering why I'm alive. The car was so hot I could feel the heat through my sweatshirt. The smell of gasoline overcame my senses, at any time the car could explode. My arms were still bleeding from earlier before. I was soaked in blood, rain and mud. Makeup running down my face, dirt in my hair; as I hit the telephone pole I bit my tongue. My whole body was shaking, it wouldn't stop. Someone helped me to the side of the road, there I sat alone and cold. Our mutual friend came up and talked to me. All I remeber saying is 'If at first not succeed; try, try again.' She got up, found my cigarettes and lit me one. Feeling the smoke inhaled in my lungs helped me relax a little, but the worst was yet to come. |
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Author's footnotes and comments on this Poem:
this is what happened to me. It was my suicide attempt. Comments
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