When I stepped on to the train I felt the air depart from my lungs.
Nostalgia kicked in and it felt like a loaded gun to the chest.
Anxiety crept up, tip toeing up my skin like a child and flooded my veins. Realizing familiar surroundings couldn't clean up our mess and I was stuck in delusions and concepts that could.
I'd tried to forgive and forget but when I look around all I see is your hands and I'm suffocating.
You were where I used to lay now I wish it was these tracks.
No matter what I do, you're never coming back.
It was the same drive but a different person and I finally accepted that things have changed.
So I'll continue to make friends where I last saw your face.