Flash of Anger
All I remember is you. Yelling. Throwing bottles. Screaming. You were upset, and you had a right to be. But you didn’t have to get in that car. You didn’t have to leave. I could have slept on the couch, given you the space that you needed. But no, you insisted on leaving. And I let you leave. You were not intoxicated. You were not under any influence, Except for the sway of your anger. You were upset. You allowed your emotions to drive the car. And I let you leave Your tears blurred the stop sign you were approaching. You were thinking about slamming him, Instead of slamming on your brakes. You didn’t see the little girl crossing the street, while my night’s events were crossing your mind. Because of you, a family lost a daughter. Because of me, a family lost a son. But you were driving. You were distracted, You were not ready to drive. You were not driving while texting, but you were not completely focused either. You chose to leave, but I allowed you to go.