I've been here for a few years now,
leaning back into the wall and waiting for my train.
Six years. I've waited six years
and not realized until just last year
that my train isn't coming.
It never will.

I remember the day we arrived.
Joyful. Hopeful. Eager for an adventure
and ready to leave this God-forsaken town.
June 10, 2007, we arrived: clueless.

The first person passed eight months later,
February 15, 2008.
She has slumped to the ground now. . .
nothing more than a pile of disintegrating bones.
August 12, 2008-- the second person died.
Now he, or what remains of him,
occupies the darkest, shadowed corner.

One by one, my fellow travelers passed
with no warning or sign.
Each body is in a different state of decomposition,
bearing an individual horror story
that will never be heard.
There is no one to hear it.

With each passing dawn,
I prepare myself for death;
as each day breaks,
I'm perpetually surprised that
my eyes open again.
The only thing left to do now is wait --
Wait for my impending death,
Wait to tell the stories of these surrounding skeletons,
And wait for a train that will never arrive.

you're the one
who crept into my chest.
i've saved you a spot;
it waits here now, unfilled.
no one else
claims space here.
what they would find
is a home for you.

you're the one
who kissed my lips
with the intention of bleeding
your warmth into me.
no one else
would give a part of themselves
as tender, no matter
what the word 'love' meant.

you're the one
who brought me to your bed,
for the sunshine and swollen bliss
that could inspire.
no one else
knew the joy of time;
they thought space was an enemy,
and touch a savior.

you're the one
i want to see in the morning.
your sleepy face
could hold a whole day.
no one else
could make me want a tomorrow.
they ran away
from the hole in my chest
that seems to be fit
for you.

5am mornings, we lay
under coffee stained sheets
with whispered words and promises
and peppermint toothpaste kisses
leaving scars on my skin

7am mornings, we lay
my head resting on your chest
until you leave for the day
with rushed goodbyes and kisses on cheeks
your smell left lingering

10am mornings, i lay
waking to the sound of raindrops on windows
with tired eyes and a heavy heart
my arm left resting
in the place where you once were

If only out of sight
was truly out of mind,
then perhaps I'd sleep at night
when I close these restless eyes....

A head that won't stop spinning
like a whirlpool of thoughts and things,
not sure if I'm still swimming
or drowning in these memories...

Sleep always eludes me
like the prey that slips the hunters trap,
soon to become a predator
that slyly hunts the hunter back...

Eventually attacking
when it knows that I expect it least,
oh sleep, you vicious creature
if you bring me dreams, I'll be your feast....

Neon is rare on earth,
hard to find.
But I bet it’s harder to find
any second of the day
where your warm,
monotone voice,
reading an old picture book,
doesn’t echo through my ears.

Did you know that
after adding eight thousand volts
of excitement to helium,
it glows?
Yet my own face
lights up by counting down
the slowly melting
seconds,
minutes,
hours
and days
of excitement, leading up to your arrival.

Your own engraved dog tags,
silver and shiny,
metal magnesium,
hang from neck
like a personal reminder
that you’re not too far away.

Arsenic is nicknamed Poison of Kings
because it had been used to numb
and **** royal family members.
Although no poison in the world
can numb the tingling sensation,
that reaches to my toes,
as your camouflage boots
descend from the plane.


At this point
the only thing that separates us
is the carbon dioxide in our breathe
and the oxygen in the thick,
humid, Texas air.

So when I see your face
the tears will rush out
like water out of a faucet,
simply because
there is no scientific equation
to explain how slow
these thirteen months
have passed.