Tracks
I’m sitting next to you
On the train into NYC
We sit so close
I can hear you exhale
I point out landmarks
And billboards
Just to look at the way
Your neck meets your cheek
When you turn your head
My head - your shoulder
As the sky drifts
From blue to orange
I consider picking up
The newspaper lying at my feet
Just to read our horoscopes
But I don’t
I know yours says you’re there
And mine says I’m here
Why do dreams end
When I open my eyes?
This is a collection of journal entries. A compilation of thoughts that I have written in the margins of books, words scribbled out on the back of paper napkins and sentences taken from the lines of an old notebook. I doubt this will ever be read, But if you happen to stumble across it? Please be careful. Its all I have..
Flame War
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