By Madison Howard
After the Crash—Part One
I’d like to say that our relationship hasn’t changed
after the events that night held,
but I think you know as well as I do
that everything is different now.
I think you cared about another person
more than you ever would about me.
I think you cared about her more
in thirty minutes
than you’d ever care about me
in five years.
After the Crash—Part Two
I called you today
and the deafening silence
was like after a jury’s conviction.
I remembered a time when all I wanted
was to hold your hand and tell you
I was alright.
I don’t want to hold your hand anymore.
The simplest of convictions
we hold within ourselves
seem to matter more than
someone rear-ending you while we agreed, for once.
After the Crash—Part Three
I am more put together than I’ve ever been,
but you wouldn’t know because you don’t care.
And I don’t care either.
I’m sick of being the person
that saves the best for last
because the best, I’ve discovered,
I’ve learned to drive myself around now
so I don’t have to rely on you,
sit around in your car waiting for you
to be okay dealing with others’ mistakes.
You don’t notice
when someone loves you so much it hurts.
And it hurt.
It doesn’t hurt anymore.
The headache’s gone, just like you.
Mad Howard is a sophomore English major attending Northern Arizona University. She enjoys her literary studies along with singing, playing guitar, and writing songs. This is her first time being published in a literary magazine. You can find more of her writing at imreallynervouswriting.tumblr.com. You can find her music at facebook.com/madhowardmusic.