The chemtrails in the back of the sky
Are short, like slits, or more like cuts,
Like the little daft scars on my student's skin
Her mother must not know about.
I feel like I have to address it,
The panic for a child sitting fatherly and loud
I will not, because I cannot, it is not my scope.
Sighing, this is what I think about.
Commuting not computing,
Filing through the turnstiles, sticky,
I'm a slithering commuter,
Not a competent tutor,
Growing tired and not cuter,
I am commuting to you.
As long as Rotterdam is standing,
I’ll be the body on the train,
Sprinting on by grazing cows.
A little longer and I'll feel my heart break again,
When I tell you about her.
As long as Rotterdam still stands
And my student jokes about self-harm,
My commuting heartbeat pounds on,
In tune with trains stampeding through the farms,
Pounding permanently, panging on the parchment of time,
As the airports below sea level send their planes to start their climb.
Jan 4, 2025
Jan 4, 2025 at 4:57 PM UTC
The chemtrails in the back of the sky
Are short, like slits, or more like cuts,
Like the little daft scars on my student's skin
Her mother must not know about.
I feel like I have to address it,
The panic for a child sitting fatherly and loud
I will not, because I cannot, it is not my scope.
Sighing, this is what I think about.
Commuting not computing,
Filing through the turnstiles, sticky,
I'm a slithering commuter,
Not a competent tutor,
Growing tired and not cuter,
I am commuting to you.
As long as Rotterdam is standing,
I’ll be the body on the train,
Sprinting on by grazing cows.
A little longer and I'll feel my heart break again,
When I tell you about her.
As long as Rotterdam still stands
And my student jokes about self-harm,
My commuting heartbeat pounds on,
In tune with trains stampeding through the farms,
Pounding permanently, panging on the parchment of time,
As the airports below sea level send their planes to start their climb.
Trigger Warning: Self-Harm.