Alone on the train, you're running towards or maybe
away from a reason to wake each morning. Your thoughts
again drift towards us and what we have and haven't
become. Your head shakes and you think "never again."
It's true what they say about fools who leave too
soon, they don't ever really move on. Put your hand in
your bag and pull out the Carver book you grabbed
before leaving. And then you realize in this too she
was right. You make an excuse, you make up a lie. So
what's left of your soul like the best friend you just
sold to sleep? Easy at night. It's true what they say
about fools who speak too soon, they don't ever really
know what they're getting into or out of. You're on
your way, the taste of blood from a bitten tongue.
You're in need of some new teeth that won't cave in.


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