the train

Written by Emma Flynn
Art by Andrew Karn

i clear a space for myself- there is a life to be lived yet i place my head between my knees and pretend that i can breathe for a few fleeting moments. 

i am in love with the going, never the staying: a home does not taste like vinegar to the tongue, nor does it rattle like the car of an old freight train.

 it is a summer morning of violent beams or hot bike tires and i am living with a deep loss in my chest- i travel amongst the tracks of untied shoelace, the tracks of a broken flower stem, and i feel like weight of a thousand dreams upon my shoulders. 

life is not kind to the living; i walk it free but never alone for i am right beside me.