Screaming in the car.

A poem for my mate.

May 13 · 1 min read

We walk to his car, laughing and joking like we always do

Reeking of dried sweat from fighting on foam mats

Volunteering for violence, we despise our passive lives.

He unlocks the car, we get in and shut the doors, re-lock and check the windows are sealed.

Then we scream.

Scream as hard as we can

I beat my fists on clenched thighs, his arm muscles burn from gripping the wheel.

Lips are drawn back from dry teeth

Every bit of air in our chests launches at the windshield

because we’re trying to smash it

out from within.

Volume is a competition – this is the song of the unhinged.

Then we





The joking and laughing starts again

We feel better because the absurdity of our lives manifested itself.

The car-scream makes the weird real,

And we’re really weird.


Written by


I write to share ideas and play with words. Illustrations by Cobey Seward.

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