My blood is where it shouldn't be.
On the hood of the car,
outside of me.
It wasn't my fault,
that car hit me.
But now, shards of the screeching pain,
are in me.
Where my life should ,
be.
Spilling my future,
my promise,
on the ground.
Where did it go?
The motion in my limbs!
The thoughts in my head?
it's,
all,
gon-
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