Train ride

In the stomach of the beast, I'm an animal myself, ourselves, day-weakened, aching bodies, energy dried, limbs stewing, rough loud hum moving on metal tracks, and I wish the rooms could go dark, we could share the look of the outside night, I see in it, glimpses, of far away fireflies of the cities, and the bright eyes of mechanical creatures, swimming in pitch black 

And I know whatever way I seat, these blue chairs will never satisfy me, and this never been alive surrounding, and the windows reflect only the insides, and so right now this is all there is in the world and nothing will understand me as this man made organ, unthinking, unfeeling,

sharing its air with others, we'll never know each other, but I wanna know everything, I wanna know nothing, and they don't feel the same way about this, and yet we're one, veins pulsing through all of us, and I loose blood for every person that gets to their stop 

and when metal will open, the cold will hit us all the same, and as the veins die, red spills free, hemorrhagic, we crawl to the safe warmth we call house, we call home