This train has been derailing the moment it set out onto these tracks.
Never you mind the two fucked up locomotive builders that created it. A malfunctioning train isn’t the responsibility of its manufacturer, duh.
It’s been overflowing with other people’s baggage for so long it’s still trying to make up for the lost time.
Slowly chugging its way to its predetermined destination.
This train penned a bucket list once with things on lit like “make out under a waterfall” and “move to a place where you don’t know anyone.”
Don’t know if it’s worse to want to escape before your life has even started or to watch the adult version cross out the things on the list because they’re not realistic for a caboose in those circumstances.
Waiting feels like slow death when patience isn’t your virtue.
Or is it? And you’ve just been waiting all of your years for a track you chose to follow without anyone else conducting.
She’s mimicking you ’cause she loves you.
Food stamps don’t buy that kind of cereal.
You can’t take a break, you have to be here, you can’t afford a babysitter, you have to keep moving.
Open the compartments and take out the poems, the instruments, the dancing, the singing, the hope, the happiness.
Make room for bickering and being broke, spill over with sadness and solicitude. These are the only passengers you are allowed to carry now.
Simultaneously wait for things to grow and for things to literally die.
I want to be anything but a train. Carry nothing that I didn’t choose.
To open a door and see all that I have inside as mine
Have you ever lived an entire life feeling like you never started doing any of the things you’ve always wanted to do.
Life is one big you didn’t mean to but you did so this is what happens and now you’ve got to live with it.
And the secret that everyone secretly hopes you never realize
Is that you don’t.