Runaway Train

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
For those who are familiar with the pain.

Submitted: April 13, 2016

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Submitted: April 13, 2016

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It wasn’t long before he knew. It began with missed calls, half-hearted excuses, lack of interest. Doting concern gave way to stiff indifference. Soon, it became apparent to him that she was there without being there. Before the day she said it out of her mouth accompanied with shallow eyes, he knew. He had felt for some time that the departure was coming. He did not attempt to prevent it from happening. He had no concern for saving himself. He only wanted to observe the waning light, the dying embers as it fizzled to cold darkness. He did not seek to get out of the way of the oncoming train. Instead, he lay his bare warm body on the icy iron and waited for the excruciating pain. And the pain was worse than he expected. Out of the tunnel of her mouth came the runaway train, “I don’t love you anymore”. She spoke them with no force, but when it hit, it nearly tore him in half. And for more than a moment, he could not breathe. Unlike those trains which stop upon impact, hers kept on rolling through his body. One year later, still rolling. Two years, still rolling. Three years rolling by and the runaway train has not stopped.

Idon'tloveyouanymoreIdon'tloveyouanymoreIdon'tloveyouanymoreIdon'tloveyouanymoreIdon'tlove..you...anymore...don't...love...you...love...I...don't...you............

 From the mangled mess that it left behind, nothing remained save the stupid heart that somehow, through it all, kept beating; keeping him alive to be a witness to his destruction. 


© Copyright 2017 Darius Lovehall. All rights reserved.

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