6 May 2012
Racing towards each other at fifty miles per hour,
Combined they hit a hundred as their vehicles embraced,
Nervously, the headlights offer up a little flower,
Intertwined, they greet now, confronting face to face.
Tendrils of steel leap from the scene and crack like whips,
Metal dances frenzied, roaring through the seats,
Glass and plastic lose control, content to smash and rip,
Settle on the tarmac next to shoeless bloody feet.
Neither one was chicken now, both of them were dead.
Flowers scattered everywhere, petals form a head,
A lonely stem, it's stoma broke and leaking everywhere,
Blood that never goes away, long after no one cares. .
Chicken • Opuss № I