spell catastrophe with a “k”
This subway car is dirty like some glances I’ve seen.
The dingy orange and light beige plastic seats have seen so many different souls over the years.
They’ve seen people fall in love and people fall out of it in crowded dirty trains underneath the city. They’ve seen it all.
For better but they see us at our worst, but maybe we’re all just cursed.
These streets have felt nervous legs. These streetlights have seen hungry eyes telling more than a mouth ever could.
These steps have seen bad days and great nights, conversations. People moving in, furniture carelessly handled, dents.
I just want to climb on my roof and scream sometimes, just to really let everything out. I just need someone to steady a ladder.
I need to be steadied. These floorboards are killing me, they keep me anchored but make me want to jump ship all at once.
Truth be told, my head is crowded.
Truth be told, these are just some words flowing out of my fingertips, due to a lack of sleep.
This feeling is no longer welcome, I need to push it away.
I’m pushing it away but I was never one for routine.
My eyes glaze over, I don’t know how to interact with strangers, I never picked up on these social cues, but I’m trying.
My headphones go over my cold ears and I try to blend in with the scenery (this has never been my strong suit).
My heavy eyes falter and I wipe the black makeup off like my own brand of warpaint.
My bed is ever so inviting, it just doesn’t feel like it anymore.