Train station metaphors
Something red and unidentifiable appears on the horizon every morning. I try not to look in its eyes, while it screams at me. I try not to cry everytime you colour the sky purple. I try not to think of my future injuries, Broken legs, Desperate couples in concrete, love that one can’t escape. I’m glad that you learn from your mistakes, grateful for the fact the past is not so sticky. You decide if your memories are glue drenched or honey coated. Dreams of kisses and hugs, nightmares of shame.
