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Writer's pictureHeather Burkett-Ocasio

"Daydreaming" (By Author HR Burkett)


Later, I was diagnosed with Sleep Apnea - a condition where I stop breathing in my sleep. Due to this undiagnosed condition, I dozed off behind the wheel, running the red light that led to my accident.


I flew forward as my car was ripped in two, becoming partially scalped in the process. (Warning: Picture of my stitches at the end of this post.)


I thank God every single day that I was the only person injured.


DON'T DRIVE SLEEPY!


If you think you may have Sleep Apnea, see a doctor immediately.


Drive safe!


Wrecked 1986 Honda Civic Hatchback
The Aftermath

Daydreaming


Some kind of Daydream,

Mind’s a haze

Rushing in one of those

typical days

Moving so swiftly,

time quickly flies

As the streets and the avenues

all pass me by


A minute, a second,

just one memory lost

I’ve forgotten that moment

but not what it cost


I close my eyes

and the memories flood

A flash of white.

A stream of blood.

Bone on metal,

Glass in flesh

A second where body

and machine all mesh.


The screeching of tires.

My daydream shattered.

Once pretty and clean,

now bloodied and battered.

The haze still continues.

Seconds go by.

Realization hits

as I hear someone cry.


Oh My God.


Oh My God.


My heart aches for the crier

that I hear but don’t see

Till my mind starts to focus

and I realize, it’s me.


Yet the screams still continue,

out of control

The howls of a mournful,

wretched little soul

The red stream continues,

it covers my face

Trapped amidst rubble,

my mind starts to race

From the simple and mundane

to the rich and sublime

Each thought frozen

in the rumble of time

“Mommy, Daddy, I love you”,

though no one could hear

“I’m so very sorry.

I wish you were here.”


Then haunted by worries.

Embraced by shame.

Was I the only casualty?

Was I to blame?

I scream for an answer,

but receive no reply.

If I had to live with that guilt,

it would be better to die.


Movement and people,

hurried like ants

Off with my shirt.

Off with my pants.

A naked newborn,

vulnerable and cold

Then comforting voices

and warm hands to hold


A race to a safe place

with burning bright light

An all knowing presence

saying “You’ll be all right”


Time starts to creep.

Now hours pass.

Counting each grain of

sand in the glass.

Find strength to smile.

Find reasons to snicker.

Optimism flourishes.

Hope starts to flicker.


Finally loved ones!

Family. Friends.

The comforting touch

of familiar hands.

Hugs and kisses

and hope is reborn.

No longer alone.

No longer forlorn.


The wait is now over.

Freedom at last!

Welcome home.

The critical hour has passed.


Now I’m the chosen one

God didn’t forsake

Oh the difference

ten hours can make.

Once medics -

now loved ones.

What was rubble -

now home.

Blessed to so many.

Just lucky to some.


Nightmarish visions

still haunt my dreams

I wake every hour

to my own tortured screams

The scarlet trace remains

upon my head

The solemn mark

of the living dead

A silent reminder

for the rest of my days

Of the moment I lost

my mind in a haze.


Stitches after being partially scalped
50 Internal Stitches & 80 External Stitches

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