Passenger
I am an impostor.
There was a person inside
Who felt my eyes,
And told me I wouldn’t
Make it back alive.
I am ineffective.
The autumn came through like
Trains passing underground.
I am late to the present;
I am late to the waking;
I am late to the person I was becoming
Before I knew I was waiting.
I am late to understanding what it takes
To love something you so long have hated.
I am outside looking in from a window
At myself like a stranger.
Who am I and what have I done?
Who am I and what would I become?
Without the knife and the night that came
Like a train
That I watched pass as I stood at the gate?
I am estranged.
You can’t love me because I'll never do the same.
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