This Train

Sitting on these stupid tracks; if the train comes, let it. I know I won't regret it. I'm sick and tired. You don't get it. I try to net it, but you can't strangle bad luck. I'm not waiting for a bear, nor a truck. It's quiet clear and plain: the only thing I want is this train. Metal rails and wooden boards; it's the last thing I want to see. Chugging, honking, it races towards me. A big, black block of machine. It gets closer and hotter, it's steam in my eyes. BAM! No one can hear my cries. A couple more seconds. No pain, no feeling, I reckon. I'm in Heaven. I can see my family. The grandmother I never got to see. My aunt. I know she loves me. All the pain has been taken away by this train. They say, "You're sixteen, haven't dealt with nothin'." They are unaware. I've always had to rough it. It's tough all over. Life doesn't care about age. Some things are just destructive; you can't simply turn the page. It seems too hard to deal. My existence is a mistake. A real life gag reel. I'm done with all the things I've been forced to conceal. I know what's real. The metal is hot under the sun. I hear the bell; here comes another one. Tears streaming down my face. I am just another hopeless case. They say God makes no mistakes, but my parents did because I'm just a waste of space. Done with all the drama. You guys better watch out for karma. I've gotten to the point where I can't stand my own peers. Maybe a frend here and there but those friendships go nowhere. The ground starts to shake the flowers exposed to sun continue to bake. Would this train hurry up, for Christ's sake? It's getting closer. I can feel the heat. Which conclusion will I meet? I ponder a thousand things at once from previous years to previous months. Would it all be different if I could remember Mommy and Daddy standing next to each other? If I could remember a normal mother? Would there be a change if I never had gotten in that fight? If my dad and I were actually tight? Living like this isn't right. I need to find the light. The train is near, easy to see because the sky's so clear. It's tempting to stay and give up, but I realize I haven't done enough. I get off the track's makeshift seat and rise onto my own two feet. I see the train come and go, then turn around and walk home.