Alyssa Trivett lives and writes in Aurora, Illinois. This is her first poem to publish at vox poetica. 

CTS
By Alyssa Trivett

The laughing gas seeps in,
tiny violins screeching out,
expanding spike strip
sinking my wrists.
The cortisone goes for an afternoon swim,
by instruction, I make a fist
to ease it in.
My punch-drunk numb hands
now infused with cortisone
smash-and-grab
the steering wheel
to realize they’re
still attached.