short poetic drabbles

1

tears threatening to spill over my skin morphed the colors of the streetlight together. red, green, yellow. which one was i? stop? go? slow down? there was no hope in the car's decline. my heart was plunging, and so would my late father's honda civic, into another vehicle, if the speed i was going wasn't reduced. those three colors represented his two year old tie-dye hoodie i wore. stop. go. slow down. my cheeks were wet, the hoodie was gone, and all that was left was my broken heart and the interstate

((this isn't really poetry lmao oops))