The Accident

October 26, 2010
By Anonymous

I blame you.
I don’t quite get it,
but it feels as if I have been
hit by a moving truck.

I have a feeling that it was driven
by an ice cream man.
I was a little kid who stood in front
waiting for it to stop. It never did.

The impact was quite hard.
I felt it coursing through my body.
Popsicles were everywhere.
In the air, I could taste them.

I didn’t mean for it to happen.
I tried to control myself, but
the dreamsicle was calling my name.
Taunting me with a sing-songy voice.

Still to this day, the incident
of the ice cream truck
has embedded itself in my memory.
I could never regret it, though.

And I blame you.


The author's comments:
I wrote this about a conflict I had last year with one of my good friends. She was dating someone and we ended up liking each other quite a bit all of a sudden and it ended up with this friend and me not speaking to each other. She ended up not being a very good friend after all, but the guy I liked was. It all turned out okay, and we've been dating for several months now, so I don't regret it.

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