I watch a man stumble to a window seat on a moving bus.
His eyes are red and his mouth is watering.
He's got a large plastic bag in one hand and holds an apple and some bread in the other.
I can hear his moans and groans over my headphones.
"What am I doing here?" the song asks me.
I run my fingers through my hair
and tap my foot nervously at the question.
The man stands up,
then proceeds to get on his knees, as if he's looking for something he's lost under his chair.
"Maybe everyone's lost too, looking for a way out"
My body is trembling now at the words she sings to me.
I wish you were here with me.
Now that I'm alone in bed.
With only the dark to keep me company.
Sometimes I wonder if you could be?
If it's too much to ask?
Too much to speak?
I know you're busy.
Please forgive me.
Depression slithered into me unexpectedly this evening.
And wrapped itself around me.
"What do I know? I'm a child"
The song fades. But I'm still listening to everything it's said to me.