She was at the same party as you
but the only difference was
she didn’t see the need
to reach for a red Solo cup
You didn’t think that one
case of Bud Light was enough
You didn’t think a friday night
should just end at 11 p.m.
With glassy eyes you hunched
behind the wheel and floored it
Your slurred words became
skewed white lines
in front of your headlights
You missed a red octagonal sign
that insisted that her heartbeats
were just as precious as yours
You made no sense of it all
when you saw her body
being hurled into the air
while shattered glass
showered onto the asphalt
like ponderous raindrops
in a late summer’s storm
Her pool of crimson blood,
raging sirens, and her mother’s wail
are the only things that linger
in your head from that night
Unable to look into her mother’s eyes
through the bitter prison cell bars
you hand her a white rose
not knowing that everyday
she calls her daughter’s name
in their empty house
just to hear it spoken aloud
And all she understands
is that her daughter
didn’t drink and drive
but was the one to die