🚆

I tell myself to write, no backspace, no stutters, so I do. slight rumble of the trains engine revving under me. my seat has held millions of people with stories far more important than mine, now it holds me. windows damp no windshield wipers but they’ve seen more than any of us ever have. they’ve held the heads of the sleepless, the hands of the helpless, these windows have done more for the world than we ever could. the girl sitting in front of me is gazing out the window watching buildings pass by, are they sad eyes, are they let’s get outta here eyes, or are they why does the world move so fast eyes? suitcases. suitcases litter this train cart, everywhere has somewhere to be but nowhere to go. destination on my mind but i’d rather talk to these strangers and tell them of things they’ll never know. strangers but they’ll probably listen. people go through life not knowing. let them know.