“As Long As It Takes” by Raven Goode

As Long as it Takes

My mother’s gold Toyota Camry is in the junkyard,
collecting sunlight on its soft beige seats.
The color bleaches, unable to resist the rays
spread across the dashboard like marbles.

Collecting sunlight on its soft beige seats,
I pressed the cigarette lighter against brown leather, concentric rings
spread across the dashboard like marbles.
She took motorcycling lessons, while

I pressed the cigarette lighter against brown leather, concentric rings
of cones were placed around the asphalt.
She took motorcycling lessons, while
I sat wishing we could afford a babysitter. Lines

of cones were placed around the asphalt
where Mom’s Camry was sent skidding across five lanes.
I sat wishing we could afford a babysitter. Lines
of burnt rubber twisted across the highway

where Mom’s Camry was sent skidding across five lanes.
I had a basketball game that day, unaware
of burnt rubber twisted across the highway.
She was on her way to pick me up, knowing

I had a basketball game that day, unaware
of an eighteen-wheeler driven by a drunk man.
She was on her way to pick me up, knowing
I would wait for her as long as it took. Visions

of an eighteen-wheeler driven by a drunk man
haunted her with bruises and jitters.
I would wait for her as long as it took. Visions
screaming, skidding, spinning, weaving,

haunted her with bruises and jitters.
I couldn’t hug her; it triggered visions of
screaming, skidding, spinning, weaving.
My mother’s gold Toyota Camry is in the junkyard.

raven goode

Raven Goode is an MA candidate in Creative Writing at University College Cork in Cork, Ireland. She graduated from the Metropolitan State University of Denver in 2019 with a BA in English. She writes both poetry and fiction in short and long form, and enjoys writing poetry in form. As a transgender writer, her work often addresses themes of identity.

Headshot: Raven Goode

Photo Credit: Staff