too well-dressed for the witness stand.

last night, i watched your car crash in slow motion.

the headlights smashed first, sending the plastic of your front bumper flying in all directions. the shards spell your name as they disappear into the atmosphere.

next, the framework is bent to all hell. the car is rearranged as you jolt in the driver's seat.

the steering wheel explodes in a violent burst of air. the car screeches as it tries to save [your] face.

your fragile, pretty little face. the only thing you have going for you.

feel the flash of the crime-scene paparazzi. head-on collisions are the most photogenic.

what a pity, i think as i hear you shatter against the force of the airbag. that won't look pretty in the morning paper.

the tires turn inwards, perpendicular to where they once hung on the fragile suspension. burnt rubber smell mixes with gasoline. disgusting.

then i notice the flames.

the whole rear end of the car is consumed in fire. the burning pleather joins the acrid smell of your demise. whatever bodies you had in the trunk are charred to hell.

how appropos. you chose to crash and burn.

then the action dies down. the car slides maybe another twenty feet, surrounded in a morbid halo of smoke, flames, and pieces of tire.

just like the angel from hell that you are.

the doctors rush to the burning wreck, praying for a pulse. cigarette ash is stuck in a landslide of makeup and blood, running down your face.

how attractive.

and with your final breath, the final thought running through your head, your lips stutter and say:

"i bet i look like shit."

the screen fades to black. the curtain has dropped on your little performance.

the critics give it five stars.

congratulations. you officially just made death look glamourous.

more people would've come to your funeral, but everybody who cared is hospitalized or shitfaced in a gutter.

more people would've come to your hearing, but everybody who saw it happen is just too well-dressed for the witness stand.

but you wanted it that way.

didn't you?

so here i am, sitting alone, watching your car-crash in slow motion.

just to piss you off.