staring at the bus
hurtling towards you,
wondering in that moment
what the driver's feeling.
You hold the weight of your mortality in your hands
like a wet jellyfish.
You blink once,
think about stepping back
or forward,
calculate the minutes for each,
and the moments in between,
stagger to the curb,
choking with adrenaline,
and swallow down the stinging aquatic
to let it rest in the gut.
Or maybe numbness calms the beats
of an effervescent heart
and you stare back at the silver metal
screaming forward
to strangle the weight in your hands
with rushing hot air.
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