I've ran out of fuel
I'm too tired to drive
I'd burn this car
but if the remains mean ash
then isn't death just a lie?
Even ash is touchable
and I'll remember my aquaplane.
There's this pain in my blindside
so black I can't feel
that my life is a blowout
and I think I've derailed.
Colliding with blue funk -
my kinsfolk are colour blind.
I'm rotting to death
and wearing perfume.
________________
Bethany Louise Rose
2015
