am sitting on a train
that will take me somewhere,
anywhere i could ask—
but there is nowhere i want to go.
light is dim and filled with the humming
of the wheels on the track, a sound that
never sleeps and is gently lulling me into a silent
stupor of somnolent monotony.
the seats are a cracked orange that
imprison me in the land of the living
with their unyielding backs and wicked angles
and i must linger at the border between dreaming and awareness.
i am the lone anomaly with tired eyes,
the only subject painted in shades of gray
who sits and stares out the window
while the world passes by.
the places slide by in a blur
when all i want is to belong to one of them,
be somebody, anybody,
i have never been in
the right place at the right time
and i think i'd like to be the lucky one, just once,
and land in a place that knows me.
at every stop there are
faces pressed up against the glass
looking for something, somewhere in the darkness
where the wind whispers secrets i don't want to know.
feels like i have been here forever,
and sometimes i can't help but wonder
where i'm going
and if i will recognize it when i get there.
the wheels keep turning
and the train keeps going
and i am still
waiting for my reason to be.