Subway

Subway It’s 3 a.m. on the subway. I’m high and lonely. A little girl in a womans body. Oversized hoodie and ripped jeans. Messy bun and tear stained cheeks. An empty stomach under a shattered heart. I can’t stand the house we shared anymore. Holes from your angry fists Unpatched in the walls. Memories of fights in the kitchen. I’m going crazy with shame, That I never ended it earlier. So I needed an escape tonight. Unfamiliar territory with strange faces. Enough numbness inside me, To make me feel safe. The old lady by the door, Her grey head lowered. Knitting needles clicking together Making a rhythmic beat That matches the clacking sound Of the subway car. Maybe because I’m high, It’s soothing. This music. She never misses a beat, Never looks at me. Just click. Clack. Click. At the opposite end of the car, The drunken suit. Bars close and now he has to go home. Must have had a bad day. Drank his sorrows away. Tan overcoat and black suit underneath. Crisp white shirt and a red tie. Hint of a five o’clock shadow. It’s the hollow eyes that stare Blankly straight ahead that scare me. Eyes that don’t care anymore. A soul that is giving up. Someone who is losing Against his world. Just like me. The train slows to a stop. A bottle rolls from under a seat, Hits my foot, Jarring me from my reverie. The music from the knitting needles stops. The old woman shoves them in her bag. Tired eyes look at me. Knees creak as she stands. As she passes by me towards the door, “I saw you watchin,” she barely whispers, “I know a broken dream when I see one.” And she disappears out the door. Behind her the drunken suit, Hollow and soulless eyes, Stare through me and not at me, “I’m not the danger y’know sweetheart,” He coughs, like he is going to throw up All the liquor he probably drank tonight, “Your own past is what is going To kill you.” Alone on the subway home, Words from strangers Rattle my brain. Broken dreams and a killer past. I thought I would come here as an escape. Strangers that knew nothing of me, Saw through my veiled disguise. Leaving me to feel Even more displaced and disappointed Than when I started my train ride. It’s true what they say, The further you get from home The more lost you feel. However, if you lost yourself Before you left How do you know what to come home to?