Tuesday, September 8, 2009


i shouldn't have to tell you i don't
feel like talking,
it is obvious
enough - my headphones loud
to drown your voice,
over my book and glaring out
the window at the rain-soaked
countryside -
i have no mind
for your idle chatter, only time for
myself and the thoughts i tumble
in the early morning hours
where i'm so tired it's almost
as if i haven't yet gone to bed
on a train full of business attire,
highlighted in purple
flaming hair
and layers of hippie skirts and beads braided
in my hair - and i don't care
that they stare,
i'm still wishing
myself back in your bed, warm
against your body.
the rain
pours on. it's finally dawn
even if the sun won't come through
the clouds and all the people
toting umbrellas watch me
hunched under my hood and
shrugging my shawl closer to
my shoulders.
and soon, this time
when i'm let off the crowded
conveyance i will disappear
into the crowds, so much as i
am able,
trying to melt into this city
until there is no one left
to see
what has become of me

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