The brilliant sparkles catch my eye and it takes me back to what happened there
I was not able to see it but it's obvious that there was a collision: fear.
My tires race but my mind is racing faster, my thoughts go out to what made that car swerved and let that glass shatter.
Perhaps they were scared of where they were going- afraid of the future and repetition.
Cautiously fearful of falling into the same destructive patterns: stop.
Red lights in front of me pull me back to where I'm leaving. Maybe they were frightened because they too were leaving. Is there a possibility they only knew what they left behind & the thought of one more mile suffocated them: breathe.
But then again maybe it's just broken glass on the highway.
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