Public Transport


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conductor told me off 

“Help me,”

she cries to the room that spins soundly,

“I just can’t survive on my own.”

“My thought train has gone off the rails, and I don’t know when my cover was blown.

I put up the walls and crafted them with marble, to make sure you’d never get through.

But now you can see beyond my beauty marks, and gaze sharply at the innards that chew.”

You think circles around yourself, and you think squares around the world. Going a million miles an hour can’t be helping your sore head.

You wish for a call, a song, a break, a med. A safe-haven to collapse and tumble to bed.

What are you running from?

Where are you going?

It’s hard to let people in, and even harder to sleep at night.

The noises and voices and constant interruptions don’t stop.

You’re running those circles, but running from what?


It’s twice as fast as you.

You will never beat it in this race.

Forever in the left lane, with your multicoloured eyes streaming and burning.

You can’t sleep, can’t stop, can’t escape.

Nothing will turn it off.

Static, static and static, infesting you and adding hurdles.

You’re a mess.

And you’ll never amount to anything more.

A mess, with a broken television set and an even more broken dream.

You stop that train so fast in its tracks that it rolls back the other way.

You’ll never be the girl you once were, a girl with marble walls up who was set to be the next Olympic runner.

You’re a girl, not that far away from barbies and bratz, but not that ready for taxes and banks either.

You are allowed to be selfish, cruel in your words and mean in your actions.

You fuck up. You patch up. You move on, and it’s quick, easy, painless.

Until you dwell, and then it’s not so painless.

What people often call a ‘vicious circle.’

I’m not sure where this story has gone, it’s gotten away from me, just like the train.

Always missing those bloody trains.

I’m not ok, I’m healing but then sometimes I’m not.

It’s so temperamental, the train timetable is always changing.

You are always changing.

Crying as you write this, you’re realising that sometimes you may not have to run, it may be ok to miss a train.

But, that being said, you won’t think the same thing in an hour.

For the train may crash into another, and that will be out of your power.

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