Train Stop

with a furrowed brow
she was observing him sit there
his head against a pole.
why was that pole so ice cold
did it match how he felt?
shadowed eyes wouldn’t match hers.
she was just watching him sit there
with a warmer arm
around her stiff shoulders
with a warm arm
around her stiff shoulders
not his arm
around her stiff shoulders
she was watching him sit there.
he wouldn’t look up, he
he started picking at his nail skin
he always picks at his nail skin
and then it bleeds, and he does it anyway.
so much persistence, and
she’d never felt so bad
like a stab of guilt so sickeningly deep but
for what, for nothing, she’d never felt so
bad, she’d never felt so confused
never seen him so blue
his favorite color. blue-
she was watching him sit there.
she was watching him sit there like the
destination didn’t want to be reached faster
she’d rather just sit there.
she’d rather watch him sulk there.
and then his eyes finally tentatively met hers
accidentally
but it wasn’t the usual smirk
his eyes finally hit hers
sad, just sad, only gloom
like the ice cold pole he leaned against
like the ice cold glance-
that’s all it was…
his eyes finally met hers.
worried brow-
she kept staring
even as he went back to his comradeship
with the ice cold pole and the
ice cold thoughts
or maybe she was
just overreacting, maybe he was
just tired. maybe he was just
freezing cold.
goosebumps cold.
she was watching him sit there
and she hated seeing him at all any type of

cold

15 stops later
one tight hug later
everything changed

Train Stop

mwizzy94

Joined October 2011

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