Tuesday, November 8, 2022

Last train home

Station. Platform number 1. Crowded.

I’m waiting for you as the earth waits for the clouds to rain

You, perhaps, can’t notice my thirst or urge to fill myself up with your love

Announcements are being made, and I see crowds vanish into their travels

With every passing minute, with every train leaving the platform, my anxiety increases

Are you even going to come? Was I even supposed to be waiting here?

The sun has set.

Does that also mean it’s dusk for what we had?

Did I keep looking at the sun change sides and not realize it was no longer going to light up my life?

Every girl with your hairstyle, everyone with a voice like yours

Has to suffer my empty stare, hoping that they were you

I am reminded of the day you said what I wanted to hear

Should I not have listened?

Did you just mean to confess but not stay?

Why did you become my home then, pray?

Were we dancing down the aisle of our love’s funeral?

Do not, you must dare not blame me for taking the last train back home.

Even the moon was looking at me with pity, and so were some faces in the crowd

Who had seen me wait hopelessly

Who could see, that had there been trains later that night, I would have waited further

But just because you didn’t turn up, I can’t stay on the platform forever

My forever could have been with you, but you’re choosing otherwise.

I will return home the next evening

And the walls of my heart will carry the shadows of our memories

Unlike us, our memories will stay forever, and die with me

Don’t tell me you were running on the other side of the station hoping to find me in time

It’s not my fault, maybe not yours either

But I know that is how it is supposed to be

My home will never be the same, and neither will my heart

So maybe I’ll find a cage instead, or maybe an open sky

The next time I want to love someone, I won’t even try.

The next time I feel something for you, I will hate myself, my dear.

Goodbye. So much for feeling homesick in the four walls I used to call home.


Station. Platform. Empty.

Heart, filled with the footsteps of those who had been there.


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