stream; two

You don’t know what’s made you question it but it’s there and you’re real, sitting alone and silent as the train cracks towards its destination, your mind and its thoughts lost as quickly as you think you’ve finally captured it all; so it escapes and you can't hold it all because there’s too much to contemplate and you’re racing away within yourself, the scuffed floor filling with your secrets as they pour from your heart, the one that always questions its beat but still loops itself in you; something you can’t even understand but know, or maybe hope, that everyone else feels it at least once inside their breaths, of human emotion and sufficiency; of that time you spent sitting motionless with your head gently tilted towards the stars despite the company, and how when his eyelashes awakened the back of your neck it was all untouchable and you couldn’t stop any of it even if you wanted to, because you were real and you were there, as one, safe despite the day slowly fracturing it; and now you were here, divided, questioning it out of fear or sentiment or the looping thud or something, anything, to convince you that you’re all okay and it’s normal, you’re real, the train cracking down the line, tearing you apart with it.

February 2012.