Drunk driving

She fumbles trying to put her jacket on a ledge
I giggle
tell her that took a little too long
she giggles
tells me it’s the tequila
I stop, think,
she just got here
begin to grieve for her son
she goes and buys herself a drink.

He gets behind the wheel
too many to count
why bother
he drives better this way
swears it
is more careful
never been stopped
only when sober and speeding
swears it.

I get in the backseat of his car
giggling
letting my eyes droop
seat belt off
could be driving the wrong direction
but hey
if I die
at least I’m with blood
maybe if our blood spills it can mix
and if our blood mixes then we can finally be close
I wanna be close like that
so I’m cool like this
buzzing and buzzing
and silent and silent
make my way upstairs and pass out
just like that.

He gets behind the wheel
all sober and shit
driving home from a graduation party
after some disc golf shit
to his parents
see,
he was cool as shit.

He gets behind the wheel
all drunk and shit
goes to pass that car
who is going slow as shit
maybe doesn’t look

maybe looks but doesn’t see
maybe sees but doesn’t move
maybe moves but too slow
while going too fast
while being too drunk.

So they both go,
young as shit.
And the small town attends two funerals.

I find out at my parents’ house
lock myself in the bathroom
cry
two weeks later
I shut the t.v. off.
Eat in silence.
Remember every time I chose
screen over him.

When pple think it’s crazy I don’t own a t.v.
I tell them it’s cuz I hate the sound.
And fuck do I hate the sound.
I’ve tied it to every dinner
that never had real conversation
and his death bed.

Then tied his death bed
to every person not quite sober enough to drive.

I’ve made killers of my brothers
of every random stranger
when the business wasn’t mine
I’ve made myself accomplice
in every ride I drunkenly remained silent in
there is so much blame
around a death so young.

When I left my parents house
my dad shook my hand and told me that’s life
but damn it,
it didn’t have to be.

Every time I drove down a two lane road
I imagined your head on collision
I imagined your parents
grieving their son.

It took a long time to heal.
To stop making every detail significant.
You were young
sober
it was disc golf
parents waiting
how it must have felt
when you didn’t make it
I replayed it over and over and over
and no matter how many times I got you to swerve
you never came out of my head alive.
And you never will.

It took a long time to heal.
To stop
making every detail
significant.
To finally break it down to
what happened last
to the only thing that happened at all.

It was metal on metal mixed with human flesh.
Which happened to be yours.
I never understood why it had to be yours
I had to stop trying.