I'll be home at 9:30. (Written for "death" competition)

Red light.
It was a night of
Blood, booze, and
bruises like galaxies
containing my sorrow
Left on thighs for everyone to see

My hands still met the wheel
And my foot barely hit the brakes
My eyes of teal
Barely focus as my stomach aches

Green light.
Plastic bags of late night groceries
A daughter in front of television,
I can see the glow of cartoons on her cheek
The girl most close to me
My eyes focus on that thought alike night vision
All I have to do is walk across the street.

Red light.
My eyes have flakes
My tongue without taste
For sanity, I am derived
My foot moves from the break
The car moves with haste
And I began to drive

Green light.
So quickly it happens.
A simple flick of light as my heart stops.
Now this car has left her in
A world without the word "Mom"

I didn't see it in front of me.
I wouldn't suspect this would occur.
My daughter was waiting.
Now there's no one left for her.

It was milk and ice cream in my bag
An assortment of dairy.
She had wanted dessert
Now she'd probably want her only family back.


Red light.
Little do I feel
What's broken the peace
In just one tiny blow
But the car bumps
My body jumps
A woman against my window.