Red Light Confessions

Brake lights bleed, a pulsing red,

all the way to nothing.

The engine off. The words unsaid,

now start their buzzing, rushing.

My dashboard dust, a fine gray skin,

the air smells like exhaust.

Where do you even begin

with everything that’s lost?

The rearview mirror shows my face,

strained and tired, alone.

This forced and quiet, ugly space,

my thoughts, they make it known.

No getting out. Just sitting here.

And everything catches up.

Each worry, each forgotten fear,

a bitter, stagnant cup.