The eyes of
a dead girl looked the same in
a photo as
it does on TV shows. Her hair was
brassy
blond, maybe sassy as its owner. A way
of telling
the world she didn't care what
anyone
thought of her being seventeen with a
baby on the
way and a toddler waiting at home.
The girl who
lived was further along and
not far gone
and not sure who to blame. The car
that hit
them didn't see the point of stopping for a
red light at
four in the morning. She wondered
about her
own unborn, about why a faceless driver
was willing to leave them lying there on the
road.
Friends arrived
to hold her hand, to close
unseeing
eyes, to hold a body that would not
hold anyone
in return again. Red light, blue light.
The girl who
lived got the neck brace that
her friend
didn't need, a trophy for surviving,
a green
light to keep traveling past 'GO'.
___________________________________________________________NOTE: Poem (very unfortunately) based on photos and the story of a real accident in early 2016.