Speeding.
Speeding by.
Speeding by quickly, so quickly everything turns into a blur.
This is not a spaceship.
This is not a train.
This is just me.

I don’t like to run, or at least I think I don’t.
I run too much. Too fast to look back.
The green turns into a constant stream,
Unwavering,
Unchanging,
Never giving me a chance to stop.

Even when the light turns yellow,
I can’t stop fast enough.
I barrel through as if my life depends on it,
As if the world would tear me apart otherwise,
As if I have a destination.

And then suddenly, miraculously, all I see is red.
There is nowhere left to go.
But I see the poppies growing on the side of the road now.
I see the road behind me, even if I can’t travel along it.
I see the blue of the sky, the blue that is turning orange that is turning black.
I wish that I had seen more red lights,
More poppies,
More blue and orange skies.
And then again suddenly, and for the first time horribly, all I see is red.