Someone Else’s Seatbelt

Someone once told me

that if you hit the brakes too hard

the seatbelt can cut you

because you were going so fast

it has to hurt you to save you.

Someone once told me

that living is like driving

with stop signs for your mind

traffic cones for your heart

and speed limits for your soul/

Only I can set them up (or not), they said.

Only I can choose to obey them (or not), they said.

Swiping scrolling searching, they say, is just speeding swerving screeching.

The cliff is right there, they say, waiting to kill me.

I don’t think I’ll fall off, I say, but I don’t look up to confirm that.

Part of me wants it—the long drop, the deep breath, the realization that my brakes are out from lack of use and this canyon floor is all that could have ever stopped me.

Can you put a seatbelt on in mid-descent?

Will it cut me when I crash?

Will I feel it if it does?