The windshield cracked
Your hand bled
As did my heart
The engine running
My tears
Raining
Pouring in puddles
In your father’s blue Lincoln

I will not
Do you hear me
I will not give up on my dreams
But a silhouette

A future nascent
Bursting with laughter and vigor
Swimming in the promise
Along an early evening Brooklyn street

Your fist pummeled through glass
My ears splintered
My hand twitching
Soft around my belly
Life’s cord
Disentangling the truth
Through scattered shards

Fingers, toes kicking
Heart dancing
Death knocking

I will not
Do you hear me
I will not give up on my dreams

I will not do it for you.