Signs Poem by Danielle Nguyen

Remember how I would yield for you?
Yield, stop thought
I would think,
what am I doing? and
why?
All reason has reached a dead end;
thought reads 'No Outlet' and cul-de-sac-s,
And unmarked speed bumps are
laughably ineffective, anyway.

I wonder:
if there were DO NOT ENTER signs,
how much they would matter.
Fifty
Sixty
70 mph -
Warning: fasten seatbelts,
high altitudes lead to bloody noses.

And now look where we've crash-landed
all signs of life hushed,
stars falling from the sky.
I pray for the sun;
my bridge has iced over and
I can't go back
without a streetlight in sight.
Everyone knows
the moon is too cold to soothe the heart.

But god,
how blinding the light can be.
How it renders those signs useless,
shining unrestrained,
the life of it striking my eyes.