my view from the driver's side

I think I could die

Right here in the driver's Seat
My tears blur the windshield 
In a watery, blinding sheen
(no no it isn't rain)
And, oh god, they taste of kerosene
But this car isn't in drive
It hasn't even been started

I'm afraid that if I twist the Key
More than the ignition will be ignited

Growling like frenzied lions
Ripping me to pieces
Splayed across the Dashboard
In a gory mess my mother has to witness
In all it's heaving sputtering blubbering glory

That pain is a great alternative 
To the squeezing fist around my heart 
 

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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