my mother's hands tighten

on the steering wheel.

the light is red and

she asks me if

i think about running it 

sometimes, into traffic.

i tell mom i think about drowning

into the green.

we drive forward

.
.
.

we drive forward

into the green.

i tell mom i think about drowning,

sometimes, into traffic.

i think about running it.

she asks me if 

the light is red and,

on the steering wheel,

my mother's hands tighten

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Oh, My Word! is a weekly updated blog featuring fiction, poetry, drama, and essays for the world. #OhMyWordWednesday

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