Kissed By Supernova

Bethany, my nickname for my beloved car, could be a space ship tonight, as unreasonable snow falls, like hyperdrive on the windshield and headlights.

Bethany and me could leave this town for the horrors and the miracles of the deep world, strange blue suns, the kisses of supernova, and all the races of beings seeded by the tossed hand of God.

Me and Bethany could leave home for these wonders, and escape the war and paranoia and divided heart, the not knowing of who is true, or if I am true, and all the friends I fear.

Bethany could make it to the center of the galaxy, the pits of the black hole we all turn on a hub around, and she could drive me back to the place that welcomes me, but is so uncertain.

The light turns green; which way do I choose?

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