Borrowed Time.

I drove fifty thousand miles through winter;
through fog and rising sun.

You were the pit
of insomnia.

I drove into a rising pulse, a tire had burst in my dream,
and you were the burnt rubber
as I hit the ground.

These days,
I try hard not to drive anymore.

©2013 Jessica Stephenson All Rights Reserved


About inpotentia

Hold Fast.
This entry was posted in Domestic Violence, Poetry and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to Borrowed Time.

  1. Kyle says:

    Very cool. Made some great imagery in my head meat.


  2. Melanie says:

    missed you!


    • inpotentia says:

      Dawww! Missing you in my absence, Melanie. My studies won’t cut me much slack this semester, so I do feel like a stranger in a strange land. Keeping a 4.0 is good incentive to persevere, although I miss everything I used to love doing and just can’t do any longer, which logically makes college the equivalent of major depression…


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