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By RebeccaBeth_88 Date: 2011 May 30 Comment on this Work [[2011.05.30.18.43.15116]] |
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Hearing the sound of the wind at 3:00 in the morning is not so pleasant, At a train station, Alone. It seems like waiting is all I can do here. Who could sit beside me on this bench? Could it be you? Will it be you? It seems like I've been waiting forever, waiting forever for the next train to come. A frayed ticket in my hand, barely able to make out the number. Wait! Is..is that the whistle? No, just the wind, just the wind at 3:00 A.M. I thought I saw someone here the other day. Yes, you came, and you stayed, only to leave me still waiting...waiting...for the next train to come. And now I'm sifting through my heart as someone who is torn apart by possibilities of a love that burns the tips of my soul. Commitment slips away as does my heartfelt sanity. Fear is the thief of many joys, the destroyer of hope--the destroyer of us. And while you're searching on other platforms with your worn ticket in your hand, listening for the sound of the conductor, I'm sitting here Waiting. Waiting. Waiting....on the next train to come. If you'd only check your ticket, you'd find, that your predestined seat is right beside mine. Tears tell the tale of this broken Eve who is watching her Adam wander, as she's stuck here Waiting. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.....on the next train to come. |