Two Years
By Ashley O’Hare
Two years down the road
My car is still recovering
From the match you put in the gas tank.
Lucky me—
You were never bright enough
To spark a fire.
Lucky me—
I was born immune
To your venom.
But it still hurts.
Pain is supposed to
Make me stronger;
I should be happy to feel it longer,
But I find myself longing
For the innocent oblivion of my youth.
Before the house collapsed on my head.
Before it took all my strength to get out of bed.
Before my tires wore down its tread.
Before you filled me with dread.
ashleyohare 