It’s hands flat on the dashboard,
the crack of skin on plastic
throat concertinaed into your mouth
and every fear suddenly there
beneath your tongue
inside your cheeks
pressing into your vocal chords
choking for a way out.
No matter how quick you see it coming,
the lurch in your guts as organs batter your ribcage
is unexpected.
But you’re never thrown backwards,
it’s always forwards
into something new, frightening, paralysing
exciting.
Daily Prompt: Lurch
