Come What May

at every major traffic junction, or when my cab is speeding down empty roads and making sharp turns, or when there is a car coming at full speed round the corner, or when I jaywalk, I find myself whispering quietly

"Crash into me. Crash into me. Crash into me."

Because things and words and situations get fuzzy.

All the things that you've been working for, at every point and turn in your life,

they start feeling like it's not enough.

Like you're not doing enough.

Like you are not enough.

And let's face it-

at some point, the one thing you'd like to hold on to, will start to slip through your fingers.

And the person who you'd like most to stay,

will walk away.

It's easier to place a pain that you can see. That you can deliberately stab into, in order for it to hurt more- If only to remind yourself that you're still alive.

Come,

crash into me.