on impact

By DJ Bunce

​

a pantoum for my ptsd 

 

i can't tell you how 
but i knew it was going to happen before it did 
because i felt a prick of fear ringing in my ears in the moments right before—                  CRASH.  s   k   i   d   d   i   n   g.  spinning spinning spinning— I smacked hard into a tree. 

 

and i knew it was going to happen before it did, 
the metal molded, the engine smoking, stranded on the side of the interstate.                   

CRASH.  s   k   i   d   d   i   n   g.  spinning spinning spinning— I smacked hard into a tree, 
left with a subliminal buzzing in the back of my head, and wet socks from fresh snow.  

 

the metal was molded, the engine was smoking, and i was stranded on the side of the interstate,                                                                                                                                                       

but i remember how pretty the shattered windshield looked under the november sky. 

there was a subliminal buzzing in the back of my head, and i had wet socks from fresh snow, 
but the cold never infiltrated the layer of raw fear that had settled on my skin.  

 

i remember how pretty the shattered windshield looked under the november sky,  

like a fucked-up metaphor for silver linings.  

the cold never infiltrated the layer of raw fear that had settled on my skin because  

on impact, i could only feel a sense of acceptance.  

 

it’s a fucked-up metaphor for silver linings 
because i felt a prick of fear ringing in my ears in the moments right before  

but on impact, i could only feel a sense of acceptance…  
i can't tell you how.