Trade Places.

She's chasing those white lines-
fighting traffic
when she knows she'd give anything
to trade with the one who is
truly rolling in love.

Shadows of ambulance tires,
screeches, dashing lights,
that strike her again.
Her back is now settled in the
pavement.

(Because all along she thought
he'd give his impression,
give her his imprint)

On the cement
looking no further
than her sprawled out image,
painting another tragedy
no one wrote about.

Why would anyone stop.
to even trade places
with a jumbled heart?

- Written November 2, 2011.