there's nothing poetic about a car crash

there's nothing poetic about several tons of metal
slamming into another couple tons of metal
going 55 down a parkway twenty tile midnight
there's nothing poetic about the eyes squeezed shut
and handing gripping at the steering wheel or
seat cushion or anything they can find
there's nothing poetic about the way two headlights look
on a full sized SUV through the passenger's side window
or the shadow they cast on someone's face
someone you know and care about
and are just starting to love again
there's nothing poetic about the feeling of impact
and the blur of the entire moment
as my precious S40 goes spinning
there's nothing poetic about the moment things stop
and nothings moving anymore,
and i'm alive and lady gaga is still playing on my stereo-
well, there might be something poetic about that
lady gaga, had terrible timing
there's nothing poetic about the moment i look over
and see that someone drooped over,
with blood on her arms and seeping through her hair
when i scream,
because i can't do anything
because i can't begin to believe what just happened
and because i can't imagine how this could end okay
feeling like a bad horror movie character
where every single inch of myself is filled with this fear
that you can't possible imagine,
unless you've felt it
there's nothing poetic about the sound of the lady
on the other end of 911
who must get god knows how many calls in one shift
probably used to the irrationally terrified tone in my voice
there's nothing poetic about a car crash
but here i am
writing a poem, after seven nearly sleeping nights,
with the same moment in time played over in my head
and over and over
possibly only increasing in how nauseous it makes me
because there's nothing poetic about a car crash