The Noon Train

I beg, borrow, steal.
Cut some things up
But let other scars heal
Until one day I cannot feel.
Until one day I'm not quite real:
Delusion concealed in my seclusion.
I'm meant to be empty
And I know things will worsen

I'm the soul equivalent of a homeless person:
A lonely road
A steep cliff destined to erode
The rusty red of a dead riverbed
The dusty dread of words unsaid
Uprooted, polluted, disputed.
Refuted diluted muted.

I sew my own mouth shut as I rip my own skin up,
Slam my head into the floor trying to hold myself up.
I don't want this anymore.
I'm not tough enough.
My skin is too thin,
My scars are too rough.
I can only cut away so much.
I don't want this.

I'm a mess at best.
Just check:
I'm less than a rain check,
More than a train wreck—
A hurricane if you get wet.

Yes, you can stay outside
While I cry out there
You need not taste
My broken air.
But it still rains against those window panes.
The glass so strange,
The sun so rare
You might still care
Might feel the ordeal I've sealed in this steel

You might be kind
You might even be nice
But thunder and lightning don't think twice.
They strike like a fistfight
And a bright light
Until they fade away in the dark day

So please, leave me this sky like slate
Please do not resuscitate
Please leave me this hell I live
I realize it's all so relative
But I subjectively hate this.

It seems pretty black as I lie on my back,
Pretty bleak as I rise to my feet
Please do not speak
You don't know what I am
You see the sham of this tram,
You don't see who I am
You know only the shell of the whole
The h ell of the hole
You don't feel my mechanical soul and it doesn't give a darn.

You can't see it.
It's that dark and we're that far apart.
You want to connect
But I want to forget
And we stretch like a guess
And I crack on the proof,
On the truth.
I can't get my dreams back;
I careen off the train tracks,
Jaw slack.
I'm no automobile—
There's no steering wheel —
I'm only metal.

Try to meddle,
Win yourself a freaking medal for being so goshdarn brave, if you want to.
But I can't be saved;
I can't be stopped.
I only run over and pass through.
I drop like a rock;
I wreck you.

And in the aftermath,
You won't put my twisted body on a different path,
You won't loose my ripped sinews
To choose the right track.
You can't carry me that moment back.

I've done wrong.
I'll be long gone
Like the last strains of a sung song.
These ugly words you heard me sing,
They rise, still desperate, echoing
They wait to become great
They’re shaped like every error
Every day and every terror
I wait as they reverberate.
I am weakened by my own words
A bird deferred from the course by this gale wind force.

My thoughts, silver wings, broken things
They vibrate so rapidly.
Spoken unhappily, spoken vapidly
A tragedy
It’s clear to see they won’t succeed me.
My words don't need me.
They fly off freely
I realize, then, I’m not a bird,
They are not birds
We are just men
A metal amen.

Words are people,
And they lose their momentum.
They disappear when you forget them
They implode when they veer from the road.
They rise like vapour,
Like ashes,
Like burning paper.
Homeless and boneless.

You too will crane your neck.
That's what people do.
Everyone stares after train wrecks
Like they’ll get some glimpse of what comes next.
And if they see, they seek to forget.
I know.
I did so
The very same
As a younger train
Further down the chain,
Further from the rain.

This steam I scream,
This open seam of broken dreams
Is choking me.
But I’m fine,
It's not until I’m smokeless, feeling hopeless—
The divergence seems to be this fatal lack of urgency
Surging out of me
That I am separate from the others.
I'm surplus;
There are more than enough of us
And some must be smothered.
I wilt and I slide
Slightly ill inside
from the tilt
I spin and fall,
An ugly spill
A gasping sprawl.
I’m pinned down, bent around the edge of darkness.
You hide, belied. You watch this
As I'm caught in it.
I hope you've not forgotten it.

The whole station thought it a sensation:
The sickening proclamation of lethal acceleration towards the inevitable devastation.
Pulses quickening,
Necks craned as I hydroplaned.
I was never meant for this,
I was built for something different,
And no one warned me how it would be.

I am a twisted thing, still whistling
But they're no longer whispering
Or listening.
My essence too evaporates,
They readily forget my fate,
My freight,
The ugly dead weight of my bed in the ditch,
Of the craziest *blank*
Who slipped without even the flip of their switch
To a darkness like pitch.
I fell quick:
A thick brick given a kick,
Or a small kid
On a cliff
Who slid into this.

One turn and I go up in flames.
I burn, but it's strange:
I cannot feel the pain in my veins.
It's plain
I am deranged, insane,
Broken deep inside my brain.

No more trips down memory lane from whence I came;
There's nothing left for me to gain,
Nothing left that you could claim.
No peace of mind,
No piece of mine intact to hijack
Even if it were to fly back to you,
Still tied to this world, still true—

Some fraction not lost in subtraction,
Or tension,
Not furled into the dimensions of your world of contention.
You could recreate its reality in memory
If you weren't so fond of your *blank-blank*ed derision,
Your tunnel vision.
If you could remember me,
It would transcend me, resurrect me,
But your pride protects me.
I won't need to find this place again,
Feel misplaced, be displaced again.
I'm erased;

I can't feel anything but this fire, this lightning strike
That consumes my whole entire life.
You can have what's left of me until your hands feel empty.

I'll take my chances with destiny,
If destiny wants someone like me—
Crazy and ugly and razor sharp,
A scarred diamond soul
A dark coal heart.
I burn alive but my insides are cold.
My bonds grow old and volatile,
They rip and shatter with my smiles,
My fragments splattered on the tiles.

I'll leave them for you:
An adventure in scar tissue
With every issue you delve into,
Every one I didn't get through.

I start to fly apart every day
And you look away
From the blood and the guts,
The bolts and the nuts.
But not anymore;
You’ll see
You’ll see me.
You'll get what you paid for—
Combustion in brain destruction,
Production of strange percussion
Every time my heart beats life in my Venetian streets
You’ll see the calamity of anatomy.

My body as angry at me as you
That I'm not who I'm supposed to be.
My blood is a flood in my veins,
It pours and it rains.
Dramatically, substantially, tyrannically.
I reign.
And you blame me,
Your paint stains my frame.

The only option left to me is opening,
The pain focusing with the blade's homecoming as true king.
I'm overthrown and my gears groan, they grind.
They churn and burn and panic
But my mind's no longer frantic.

A desperate, exquisite trade:
I kill my mechanics with your antics.
I'll do whatever it takes to evade;
I don't need to be safe,
I don't need a place to evacuate.
I'll be caught in this frozen moment, but you won't be.
That's all I need.

I can't erase the truth in my thoughts,
Replace with ruse what I know that I've lost:
Epitaph for one half of my mind.
The appeal of this exchange is strange,
Almost unkind:
I no longer feel you
Or sense what I live through.
I’m spent;
All this is one empty event.

And even when I heal I'm reshaped,
Not revived enough to taste.
I find myself blind, numb, stunned.
I can't impound a sound or tell a smell
But I do not have to live this hell.
I am lost and I don't want to be found.
I'm burnt out
I can't turn around.
I am a dead train and there's no need to be alive.

It was no momentary catastrophe.
I tried with everything inside,
And look at where it landed me:
Drowned, choked, burned up in smoke.

I used to cry and bleed,
Untie and concede.
I tried to hold myself together
But this weather blew me away.
I was a girl,
A disaster train,
But I cut myself from that broken brain.
I washed it all away
In the dank heavy rain.

I am a disaster after,
But I can't feel pain.
I'm still angry but I feel empty.
Reality escapes me
But you keep looking at it
You know you need to step away and be healthy but you want to keep looking
You aren’t sure what you know
You don’t know what to say
In the light of day

I came, a train
To claim this aim,
This pain,
This blame.
This secret shame
With its ugly name,
This blade that maims
And frames the rains,
This brain it tames with hidden flames.

You will not look away:
The metal strewn,
The sky ash gray.
My insides make an ugly stain—
It's noon and I'm the noontime train.

The End

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