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.