Bombing the Oread

9 Apr

speeding my way into the infirmary
my board keeps shaking
weaving my way in and out traffic
quick decisions I’m making
better off crashing into the sidewalk
to have some scrapes than be a vegetable who can’t talk.
Deeply breathing
gotta stay calm
or the ground will be beneath me
too late to step off
they’ll scrape me off the cement with
a lotta skin left off.
By now if I eat it
they’ll prolly have to take me off
life support.
I’m fucked if I freak out now
no way to slow down; nobody showed me how.
Broken board? Broken wrist?
Neither, just a grass stain
hurt ego pushed aside
didn’t feel no real pain.
Still in one piece.
Time to exhale.
I get to walk away
from one of my biggest fails.

~Edward Austin Robertson


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