The first time I missed a bus
I ran down the street
Behind the bus that was fading away
Gradually
I cried shamelessly
While still chasing the bus down

I still miss buses
I still run down the street
I don't cry anymore about it though
Guess I have grown up

Loud music is playing in the bus. People talking and laughing. Are they talking about me. Laughing at me. ****. I start to panic. My heart is racing. It's time to face it. The voices inside my head are fighting. I black out. Face down. **Snap.

all i want is enough time
to ****** you with my silver
tongue
but the time keeps biting my back
until i edge ways I never wanted to
sleep all day
a lonely thought: someday

feed me?
you could feed me, as long as
i can stare at you with half-lidded windows
to bring you closer as you
spoon-feed me Nutella
or peanut butter
or anything
as long as it's
you on the handle

I'll drive you anywhere, baby
I just don't have a car

So I'll be your drive, everywhere baby
Think of me when you can't see
hold me close when you can't breathe
even though you're over there
and I'm still alone

It's raining.
Soft, cool knees hunched up against your chest,
Sitting there in a flowing skirt and knitted vest,
Quiet, at rest,
But you looked distressed, you look depressed,
Your momma knows your house is gonna get repossessed
Cigarette against your lips, unlit.
You look surprised the bus driver doesn't make you
Put it away,
But I pretend I can't see you
Watching night turn to day, your dismay on display
Hiding like a stray dog from memories of your mother's new fiancé
Last Father's Day when you tried to run away.
Well, now you're trying again.
You look weary, bone-tired and thinking about
All you admired, desired, dreams that
Expired and retired and why can't you see all the love
You've inspired?
I want to talk to you, walk with you,
Your skin is too pale, like chalk
I don't want your momma to hear that knock,
Empty face crumpling in shock,
People flock around you where you hit the rock,
The clock ran out for you.
Young ******* the ***** floor, feel like
No one adores you,
Feel hurt down to the core,
I tell you "This is your stop,"
You walk out the door.
I know I'm never gonna see you any more.
And next week, the weather's bleak,
I'm on break, I see your face on the newspaper,
Went to seek Death's mystique.
Raindrops sting like vipers, snipers,
I get back on the bus,
Turn on the windshield wipers.
It's raining.

They sit in their
Wide neon cocoons,
Cozy and warm
With hot air
Dribbling out of vents
And swirling around their bodies.

A thin sheet of metal protects them from
Nine degree weather
And bone-freezing winds
And sheets of shivering ice.

And yet,
Every day at
Exactly
Six twenty-four in the morning
They come around
Like wide neon caterpillers
And slink toward where I stand,
Legs frozen to concrete.

Doors open,
Burning cold air rushes in
And rubs against them,
But they wait and smile
As I climb three tall stairs
And greet them,
Welcoming the nice hug of
Warmth
And
Coziness
And
Comfort
And love.

They love me,
A stranger.
They love me enough to
Rescue me from
Becoming an ice sculpture.

So I fumble with
The Thank You in my pocket
And ****** it toward them
In my haste.

It is enough for them.

His voice reminded me of night rain
Deep intelligence sprung from the core of his mind
and bloomed into words
and I could sit for hours
listening to the night rain fall
without understanding why a single drop fell
so far away from home
Maybe it’s the comfort of words washing away the doubt
that creeps in on the brightest of mornings
that would cause me to welcome
a somber night of rain
with open arms
And when the rain stops
-as it has before
I will continue
stepping out of bus shelters
without thinking twice
and leaving umbrellas alone and forgotten
in the coffee shop
on the nights when I need them most
If I should be lucky enough
to feel again
I will speak in the night rain
to the lost souls hiding
in the bus shelters and forgotten umbrellas
looking out at the rain drops
and wondering why each one falls
so far from home

Did it work out the first time around?
Do you still roll over in the mornings,
Look at him,
And think to yourself 'this is the best moment of my life'
Or
Are you here and he's there?
Are you still waiting on his phone calls,
Waiting for him to say 'I love you and I need you back'
Have you sent letters,
Emails,
left voicemails?
Telling him of every set of scars that spell out his name
Right in the center of your chest?
Because if it worked out the first time,
Write a book.
Let the bitter ones know what it's like.

A little waiting
Some vigorous pushing
A quick look around
On a shaky ground

Grabbed the nearby seat
Some rest to the feet
In minutes squeezed inside
By a woman on the same ride

Awkward journey
The CON for cheap money.
Ticket punched
Some snacks quietly munched

Feel tall from the rest
I am in a red BEST
The driver is in a hurry
I smell some fish curry

Over a bridge
Some dogs cringe
Music for my ears
No more travelling fears

Nothing gone wrong
Now I feel strong
My stop is next
Replying to a text

Trip a little but its okay
I think it’s a good day
The red bus brakes
My balance shakes

I fly right on the drivers grill
With my face drilled
All eyes on me
I can barely see

I shiver as I walk the stairs
No one even cares
People just want to get to their destination
And I stand numb at the bus station.

-Zainab Attari

2014 may not have significance to you
But it is really 1914 in being the clue
It will be the 100th Anniversary of the Greyhound Bus company creation
I felt it would be fitting in the mention
Supposedly May is the month of the celebration
Imagine the hound bus being started in the form of a car
Innovation history that has taken the hound company far
It’s the hound bus existence spanning from a beginning to present
Today the hound still continues to represent
A nation and global citizens that welcomes Greyhound buses everyday
The idea of going my way
The land transportation carrier that helps travelers convey their own passenger portal by-ways
It’s the everlasting journey that stays
The bus hound has weathered many storms
It was the company’s acceleration beyond any norm
The hound’s bus wheels have turned for centuries being its own reels
A moving bus with windows like screens
An adventure in motion in what it seems
Happy Anniversary to the hound and continued more years in staying around
State to state has always been your bound
Give the hound dog a bone
Your stretched out approach you have shown
You have become a passenger’s friend to which we have come to be known
Keep those wheels turning and our inspiration always urning.