Cold

Alyssa W

0

The metal looks cold beneath my back. I can’t feel much anymore I’m drifting. Watching. As my mother cries at the sight of my limbs “On impact” they say, and it makes her screams louder. I think back to the night It was dark It was cold. Seat belt off Phone in hand Drink in hand Everything in hand but the wheel. I should have remembered But now I’m lost and all I can think of, is how cold I look, on the metal slab, as my mother cries. I should have remembered; but you can. When the night is dark and cold Seat belt on, Phone down, Drinks away, and you’ll stay warm.


Description

This poem is written from the perspective of a victim from a car crash due to reckless actions reevaluating their decisions and circumstance and leaving the reader with advice as to how to not end up “cold”.