the truth of survival

she checks her rearview mirror

and swerves a little

the oncoming headlights float like fuzzy halos

disorienting her,

gnarled hands grip the wheel tighter

and she winces, arthritis flaring

a loud truck comes in fast behind

it makes her nervous

she wishes she wasn't afraid to drive

at night

it wasn't always this way

the truck behind is even closer now

impatient with her caution

it honks and edges over the center line

looking past her white sedan

she knows what's coming

and fights to hold steady

the v8 jams on the gas and passes her

flipping the finger

honking and shredding

the last of her nerves

she keeps her eyes on the road

tears threatening to fall

she's not sure when things changed

which day it was that robbed her of

her confidence or

when her vision took a shit

but she has no choice

no one to count on

no options

other than this daily

anxiety-fueled ride

cos the truth of the matter

is that she needs the healthcare

as insulting as it is

a greeter at the local superstore

when she graduated

suma cum laude

from Brown

she breathes a prayer

heart beating wildly

as another set of

headlights distorts her path home

the bright flare passes

she blinks to recover

but the damage is done

she's on the shoulder

then grass

then tree

no dignity in the wail of sirens

nothing but silence in the aftermath

her bright voice

her brilliant mind

broken by the truth

of survival