My heart 29 May 2009 prose
My heart is racing down the track in a bright-red car with fuel injection. It has its foot on the gas and its eyes are peeled wide as it maneuvers past the other cars. The competition doesn’t stand a chance, for my heart is racing faster than a hummingbird, a cheetah, a deer, a cat. My heart’s ears flap in the wind as it careens around curves and zips down the straightaway. A look of concern appears on my heart’s face and it nearly loses control. But even with this concern, my heart races on, because it can and because it must. My heart should not consider consequences. It mashes the accelerator flat against the carpet and flies uncontrollably down the track past spectators and farms to an unknown destination, all the while not considering what will she think, what will her parents think, is this a mistake, do I have a condom. My heart only feels the urge to race and does so because it cannot resist.
My heart is racing down the track in a bright-red car with fuel injection.