I know we're going to crash.
I can feel it happening,
Can hear the spinning, the screeching,
And the echo of heartbones breaking.
I cannot breathe, you cannot breathe.
I stare into your eyes, wide as searchlights;
you grab my sweaty hands, fingers trembling,
And for the first time in forever,
There is no solace—
In you, in us.
I wish you were not here;
I wish I was not here.
#✍️
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem