A Game Called Thursday

It was a curl in my habits which caused a thought to cement itself to my heart. A tie to the tracks which I wanted so desperately fulfilled.

I got lost searching for myself - and stumbled back into a world I want no part of. I think I would have let it run right over this neck and these thighs, and I'd have embraced every steel wheel.

It is now all long gone and I'm here, right where I started. My soul just keeps curling, and the thoughts in my head settle and then churn, and they all leak into my chest. Ever word and ever sight, ever taste and every smell, seeps straight into my chest. I do not control it. It just is.

Friday hysterics led to Sunday salutations. A run led to a shower where I let everything curl out and away. It all simply burst and crawled down the drain after clinging down my cheeks. The salt and the tears made everything, seemingly, very clear.

And the railroads, they just seem so perfect. The perfect spacing between, the perfect level, and the perfect feel. Something about... lines.

Something about finding yourself and not seeing anything there. And that will take a long while to ever seem real.

only in corners can love
find a heart

only at the edges can
faith ever be tested

always in between
is where a faithful heart is found