sometimes i want to ride the train to the end of the line.
and back again.
i hold back my tears and i am exhausted by even the thought of letting them out, but i am equally exhausted by the thought of anything else too. brick wall.
sometimes i want to stay in suspended fluorescent space where mechanical recorded faux cheery voices are the only thing talking at me.
i walk and think it’s not that cold, maybe i can keep walking
maybe i should keep walking
just to prove i can.
sometimes i think the shake and rattle and hum has become too much of a comfort
more often than not it lulls me straight to sleep.
i never wake refreshed.
maybe tonight, i tell myself
i don’t need dinner. my slightly flatter stomach tomorrow
will only be an added bonus.
really, i feel too worn out for the work of nourishment.
sometimes being a nameless face in the crowd is altogether
the most heartbreaking and liberating thing i think could ever be.
i used to ask myself how i would make it through the night.
i don’t wonder anymore.
it’s just some hours.
they will fade like all of the others.