I Open the Blue Car Door

April 14, 2008
By steven sundt, Kalispell, MT

I open the blue car door.
I slip inside; pull the door shut,
Put on my seat belt,
Pull out my keys and search for the one
That fits the ignition.
I insert the key and turn it on.
A low growl moans from the engine
Like a tired, grumpy old man.
I grab the brown, torn leather steering wheel,
Push in the worn clutch pedal,
And put it into reverse.
Slowly, I begin to back away from my pale white house.
Out of the corner of my eye,
I watch my kid’s pale eye follow me as I drive away…

My heart’s pounding and
Sweat runs down my face.
As I look in the rear -view mirror,
The red and blue lights flash behind me.
In an instant, my life changed-
I’m a wanted man,
A felon,
A disappointment to my kids and myself.

For my own selfish reasons,
I can’t stop running.
As I push my car to its limits,
Blue smoke trails my car.
I feel it losing power.
I punch the dash-
Anger has gotten the best of me again
And always will,
A curse passed down through generations.

As the police gain,
I think of my kids.
What will it be like when I’m not there?
I convince myself to stop this madness,
For the good of my children,
As I press on the brake with no effect…

They pull my lifeless body from the wreckage,
Pronounced dead on impact.
This will haunt my kid for the rest of their lives
Like a void, never ending.

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