Bad Driver
I was driving home from work, while listening to music and thinking about recent events in my life. I took notice to the lines on the road and thought about how something so minuscule that is painted on the road is such a loose boundary that we follow. A pair of dotted yellow lines separates traffic and that was fascinating to me. The beauty in the willingness that we as people have to either create or break boundaries - identifying a sense of safety that has such ease in in being betrayed - revealing the uncertainty in relationships, connections, and routes to destinations.
Bad Driver by Anyah Jackson
There’s a divide in the road.
Dotted lines separating the
lanes
Cars veering into the space
of others
Close in tension
Skid marks on doors
Tires bumping
Screeching increasing
Crash collision
Check the blind spot
Not just in the mirrors
Turn around
Look over the shoulder
Go the extra mile
It’s moments when you
don’t look to see
what lingers behind, that you
sacrifice safety of reminiscing
on familiarity
of warmth in proximity
to danger in boundaries ––
lack thereof.
Correct your mirrors.
You’re prescribed to wear
glasses while you steer,
seeing clear
The obstacles laying royally;
The queen is waving
Rerouting to a discreet destination
Just go home, its getting old –
Over the shoulder, surface leveled love
You’re not cautious -
Brake;
Red light.