My eyes open Crash. I’m in a hospital bed and my face is torn apart. Road rash overwhelms my skin and I instantly feel regret. Crash. A nurse makes her presence known next to my bed and tells me to recall what I remember. Nothing, I think. No wait. Crash. I find myself reaching over to see my phone and it’s nowhere within arms distance. Crash. Memories begin to flood my brain and fear swallows my happiness. I hit the interstate to get to my friends house the fastest way I could for a party, and she asked me if I was on my way. Before I had the opportunity to type back, I looked up and immediately I didn’t have time to stop. CRASH. I remember only hearing the sound that two cars crashing together make, and then ringing. My advice: keep your phone out of your hands when you’re driving. Then you don’t risk your life or anyone else’s.
I wrote this poem from the perspective of a teen driver who was texting and got into a crash. I think it is important for teens to understand that this kind of thing happens all the time and that the effects are permanent.