Missing Dead Girl

It was just one second. 

That’s all

It took. 

One second,

And I

Could not think

Or breathe

Or even fucking

Look

Outside to see what it was

Exactly

That I had hit.

The car,

It swerved off

To the side of the road

And stopped

And I don’t,

Actually,

I don’t really remember

How I got it

There.

But it stayed.

Somehow.

And I stayed right there

Right there on the seat and thought,

For perhaps the first time

That the seats

The seats in my car were

Leather.

Not cloth.

And not comfortable or

Handsome.

They were ugly, and leather, and

Seats.

I was thinking about seats because outside

Outside I knew there

Was

Something dead and so the

Thought

Of seats

Was such a more

Pleasant thought and I wonder

How life comes

To this -

Killing. 

Had it really come to

Pass?

Me?

Of all people, one who loves

Children

And

Crayons,

And

Squealing

And

Laughter.

I got out then.

I got out then and walked

To the back

And then

Vomited

A bright,

Burning,

Bloody

Spray of vomit

All over the trunk of

My car and I was so fucking mad that

A kid,

For it was true,

Had

Run out in front of the car out

Of nowhere;

What I mean to say

Is

We are

In the middle

Of nowhere

Here

And here is a girl.

Alone.

And now it is me.  I am the one

Alone.

No bike.

She had nothing, not even

A bike.

She had been, it

Appeared,

Walking and there

Was

A forest.

She had come out

Of the forest.

I looked all around then,

Right and left and

To the edge of that

Forest I

Walked.

She had been

Alone.

The body was

Light considering

All of the that stuff you hear

About

Dead weight

I pulled the latch and opened the

Trunk.

This is where I put her,

This girl of

Maybe eight

Or nine.

I didn’t know

How old she could

Possibly

Have been only that she

Was

A daughter

Someone’s daughter

Or

Sister

Or

Grandbaby

And now she was in my

Trunk.

Dead

Dead

Dead.

No cars had passed for

Perhaps a half hour while I was outside

Deciding

What to do and I wished

Oh god, did I wish

That someone

Had passed.

How easy things would have been

Then.

And now they were not;

They simply had changed and she was

In my trunk

And me, driving.

With her.

And my trunk seemed to be,

Though it was only

Imagination,

To be sure,

A million times heavier

And I thought

Perhaps a thousand times

As I drove through a town

Quiet

With grief

To the apartment

Complex where

I lived

I heard

Something,

Something like a knock

Or

Maybe a muffled cry

And it
Was coming

From
The
Trunk.