I am the one
running alone
through cold dark,
always racing
to see if everybody else
has survived
the crash of life.

   Are they bleeding?

   Do their limbs
            snap
            back in place?

   Is there light left
            in their tired eyes?

   Can they see
            beyond the crumpled mess
            of now?

I am the one
sitting, scared,
alone in a car
wrapped around a tree
on some forgotten highway.
I cannot move.
I cannot breathe.

   Am I dying?

   Will anyone come
            to look
            for me?

   Have I any hope
            of holding on?

   Is there any chance I
            will never walk away
            from this day?