The Crease on The Painting

I lost control the moment I got hit from behind

4 lanes I crossed in less than 4 seconds

The belt across my body was my only thread to hold onto

Like an angel hugging and holding onto me from the grip of the grim reaper

I still remember the horrific sound of shattered glass

And the blurry screaming memories I yelled, as I turned my head to look at my friend

Highlighted by the headlight of the drunken monster to my rear

The whiplash pushed my seat flat all the way to the back

As my pupil magnified and filled with shock and terror

It was almost my time, but not quite

Maybe God changed his mind right when I was at the front of the line

Maybe I was lucky that the gate to eden was closed earlier than usual that night

and I was told to come back another time

It was a reminder that I know no future

No matter how bright, or full of promise, or how thick the wallet is

What I dream is not necessarily attainable, and what I desire in life is not always guaranteed

There was a printed painting at the backseat which I had bought earlier that night

Today, it’s hanging and framed on the side of my bed

There is an ugly crease across this beautiful Japanese-inspired painting

Folded by someone else’s ignorance and over limit alcohol intake

Its shadow reminds me of that night

It reminds me that beautiful life can be snapped to two in the brink of an eye

The crease never goes away, yet the painting still exists with all its imperfection

Proudly hung with pretty frame and displayed for anyone to see

Holding a story of its own

That is my life now

Beautiful, yet imperfect

Full of creases, yet still standing

Nicely framed, yet fragile

But most importantly,

Full of stories yet to be told

And wishes yet to be granted

Before I go to Eden once more