My Problem This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine.

June 9, 2010
I duck behind the one-way mirror
that is my windshield after dark
I push the pedal down
and take in the unpolished metallic beauty of a hundred tiny headlights
dancing down the freeway, opposite me,
blurring together
like a night-time sun
that I wish was a hole
gaping in the sky
waiting hungrily to swallow me and my 1997 Land Cruiser whole.
and spit us out somewhere nice
somewhere careless
somewhere serene
where my dead dog Jack will lick my face


I'd like to hold the wheel firmly and set my foot on a floor
that I could trust with absolute security
to support the weight of my pressing heels
without my legs crashing through
making my 1997 Land Cruiser,
Fred Flintstone-style hybrid
leaving me to push myself
alllll the way
step by step


like I've had to do my whole life.
I've always only wanted some help.
or a Barney Rubble. To help me push,
on the way to work
at the construction site that employs
as cranes.

As the highway winds on and on
I could only wish that Columbus was wrong
and pretty soon
We'd reach the edge,

free-falling into a starry
I would be weightless.

This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. This piece has been published in Teen Ink’s monthly print magazine.

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