Crash,

Strike,

Smash,

time Freezes in a second,

a glimpse at life, a glance at death,

these are the moments that define us,

how does one cope with this moment of impact?

My fate has been decided, the glass breaks, the seat shakes, and it all comes crumbling down, the jolt thrusts me forward.

I am taken, at this instance, I am gone,

lost,

dazed,

confused,

Waking up in a box, engulfed in wires and machines,

head whirling,twirling, spinning out of control,

wondering, "What is there to look forward to?"

My moment passed, my defining moment.

Headlines read, "Strike of the Century", "Courage to Collision".

It has left me, it now swarms the public.

Slowly I become a character, a piece, an item.

I am known solely as "That Girl".

My name, my story is tossed about,

the people see me as a pawn,

a small part of their enormous media.

People plunge into my privacy,

every last detail is fed to the hungry blogs and tabloids.

Exposed and vulnerable, I slip,

fall,

slide,

diminish.

The swarm has flown to a new hive.

A new bold headline emerges, throwing me into the waste of past paparazzi protege,

Finally,

tranquility,

serenity,

and silence.

My nightmare has passed, and my dream has returned,

but somewhere deep down, I miss it.

The attention, the flash, the microphones, and media.

Once I was a star, a super nova, but now my light has died,

floating helplessly, through this world of lies and labels.

I was a part of something exciting, a circle,

now a missing piece with no whole, slowly wasting.

Forever yearning what I had but did not want,

now wanting what I no longer have.