jules bianchi


It’s been two years, hard to believe. There’s a space in the paddock which no one else can quite fit, like trying to force a jigsaw into the wrong place. We think about you every time the lights go out, images flashing behind our eyes whenever a car spins. 

No, not again. we say, our breath in our throats. The driver climbs out of the car and we exhale. There’s this little weight in our chests thinking of you, how you didn’t climb out. It should be you out there.

We miss you. Every race there’s a seat you should fill. Every interview there’s words you should say. You should be here to share your smiles with us. I miss you.


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