she always found it easy to sleep on the train
the low vibration of the motor sent a shiver down her spine reminiscent of the one she got when her mother held her and whispered softly,
"it was just a sad dream, my sweetheart"
she wishes her nine-to-five didn't take up so much time
time she could have spent with her mother before stage five
she sleeps with the notion that maybe when she wakes up from her slumber, she will finally wake up from her
sad dream
he feels remorse for the fact that he can't sit in the normal train seats
but he enjoys the solitude
the passengers' probing judgement cannot penetrate through his
thick skin
he'd rather ride alone than next to one of the classmates that bullied him throughout high school
"fatty" "meatball" "fatso"
he hopes that they all get hit by public transportation
preferably public transportation that he's riding
sitting alone
the anxiety is suffocating him and
no one can see
and no one can help
and he's going to die
and he's going to die
and he's going to die
there's so much he hasn't done
there's so much he has to do
there's so much existing
and he's going to die
and he's going to die
and he's going to die
every term paper is shoved down his esophagus
every reading
every subway ride spent doing nothing
is going to **** him
and he's going to die
and he's going to die
and he's going to die
her eyebrows make her look angry
the arch is too high, she notices every morning
her cheekbones are too severe
she notices
her hair is always pulled back into a tight ponytail
every hair scraped back, flat to the scalp
she notices
but it's a choice
she has to demand things of people
and no one will take her seriously is she looks inviting
she notices
her boss stares at her *** for three and a half seconds whenever she bends over
she notices
her co-worker resents her because she got engaged and promoted in the same year
she notices
he doesn't understand
he came to this country hoping for so much more
but he doesn't understand
how anything works
how anyone functions
he doesn't understand
he takes the same train every morning because he's remembers it
but he doesn't understand it
he misses home, his real home
but this is better for him
isn't it?
she always sits in the window seat of the four-chaired section
whenever she doesn't, she is forced to stare at the ground
or make awkward eye contact with the grey faces
she likes the window seat
she stares blankly through the landscape surrounding the train
and she thinks
about how her nostalgia deepens her melancholy
about how everyone has tired of her humour and wit
about how the only thing she has is a shred of hope that someday she can make her mother proud
and she thinks
she thinks about everyone surrounding her on the train
what their stories are
she wonders if she'll ever know
and then she sleeps
an oldie
I'm also an oldie
I'm actually 99