space

i knew better.
but history, it repeats.
paralyzed
i hurtle through space
into debris.

jagged pieces come
i cannot avoid, or choose not to.
impact after impact,
my course defined by collisions,
pain of one melds into the next,
until the ache is steady
and new hurts are seen, not felt.

detatched,
face bruised,
chest caved,
arms dangle useless.
i wait the fatal blow.

when it comes,
i wonder
will i remember the way?
remember which bridges i crossed,
and which i burned?