the glass in the backseat

has been clinking

for the past few hours

of gravel and flashes

a toast has been held for 3 state lines

I think I am losing my mind

my window is covered in dead bodies

and their wings

the sky is dripping into the forest

and I am attempting to collect drops

I want to fill myself with the trees

I want to be the straw-man of this place

I want to open the door

stretch out my bones

and slide into green

– sheila c.