Sometimes talking feels like walking steadily towards a moving train,
The power,
Chug, chug, chug,
Volume rising like the temperature behind my eyes,
Pacing, pacing, feet floating heavily below my knees,
Like carrying the weight of both of us on my back where you touched me once and I jumped,
Chug chug chug,
Words fall like bags of sand,
Dry and broken from my mouth,
Lit by the lights of the choo choo locomotive that will grind my bones firmly into the track,
Breathlessly I watch the train
Stop,
I step on rushing with the light and the hope and the words ready to spill from my mouth like viscous liquid,
Ready to pour into you,
I love you!
I gasp for air and swallow the liquid down like medicine,
Maybe next time.