Trains

I

The train is where I just exist
No school
No friends
To please
To comfort,
To lie to.
A place where I can write
And listen,
To the sounds and the music
In my head.

I can sit here
And watch the businessman across from me write on paper
Make eye contact
Look away.

There are no preconceptions of me here
I am just a girl,
I don’t have to act,
To pretend,

I am at peace on this train.

II

Driving closer
To the world I know,
The contours of its face,
Its gentle touch

Closer and closer
To the gates of restriction,
Entrapment.
Of businessmen and teenage girls
And everything in between,
To normality
To pigeon holes
Off we go.

The place I know of
You know it too
But not like I do.
It makes me weak, keeps me up at night
Tears at my flesh like a bird of prey
Slowly,
Slowly.

To you it is life
To you,
My dear,
It is just another day.

But it is murder
To the touch
Death,
Ever
So
Slowly.

Trains

kossimarsalsa

Oak Park, Australia

  • Artist
    Notes

Artist's Description

I wrote this on the train (go figure) a while ago, most probably fuled by a dread of school. I’ve edited it a bit, tried to make it slightly more exceptable, it’s still a bit rough but I wanted to see what people thought and clean it up to be a bit better.

xx
s-a

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