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Sunday, January 23, 2011

Runaway Train


I hold so close to what's already gone. So many times, I've walked into a world where nothing lives, nothing moves. It's like I'm stand on a train, moving faster than my thoughts could ever catch. I stand, watch everyone fly by, laughing, loving, shining like the sun. No matter how far I reach, how hard I scream, no one sees, no one hears, and I just can't feel you anymore. I'm reaching into nothing, hoping for everything. Yet all the colors still trace by me, leaving me black and white. The shades of gray keeping the air so cold. Like a rainy day in winter, it's nothing special, nothing sane. I run as fast as I can, but the train moves much quicker, leaving me in the same spot. If I move backwards, the colors darken and I'm left in the shadows. The trees reach to the sky, like a skeleton reaching for hope. A new light. But judging by the decay, it never came. Will that me me? Frozen, reaching for everyone who knows where to go? When I see nowhere to go? I can't breath without the sun, but I'm drowning in the rain. I can still see the light in your eyes, but you'll never find mine. Hidden by the fears and confusion, all you see is a cold hearted soul. I never was, and never will be, the girl you thought I was. But I'm still worth a glance, if you'd help this train stop. I want to get off, I think this is my stop. In what seems a slow motion, I see you look back at me, you smile, you reach to me, then it all floods away. Like the rain, washes by in a stream of nothing that I can comprehend. If I could just hold on a little longer, you'll wait for me. Right?
Or maybe I'm just forever lost, running for a chance to see the blues, the greens, the reds and browns. The sun. The beauty I know is there. If I could just run faster. If I could just reach a little farther. I could see your face and we could laugh again.

Each morning, step out the door, like a ghost, into the fog where no one notices the contrast of white on white.
I did this to myself.
And I plan on fixing it myself. Give me a chance to give you something to believe in. I'll run.
Run away.
And find my place.
This is MY time.

1 comments:

gatorbait123 said...

very nice Dixie. I like how you use the lack of color as coldness. Its very effective.