Seven Stops til Waukegan
TW: Dark. Reference to suicide.
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Seven Stops til Waukegan
Alright bud, let's set some things straight.
You're what, twenty-two?
Rain patters down the pole.
The insects will surely drown.
Not special. Never were.
It was always a figment.
Air brakes screech, then exhale;
a battered husk opens the door.
Ego is reserved for the demented.
Your mortal puppet is leased.
Fiver in the till,
a little extra for the score.
Soul seeps through your bone,
its rent is past due.
The Great Generator hums;
labored blinks pull the cart upon its cord.
Been years since we met,
but you never thought to thank me?
A lowly man gasps for air.
The window seals weep.
Before you go...
One more word?
The bated air reeks of musk and dioxide
A drunkard bides their time.
Never enjoy the words you penned.
The obsession would devour you whole.
Cold breath, everything groans.
The Ides of March begin to bristle.
Oh, and an addled mind writes stories to itself.
It's all you ever were.
Distant light drifts across sky
while Persephone closes the gap.
You lied to yourself through gritted teeth.
He couldn't love you.
Two souls breach the fog.
Unaware of their passing.
Me? I can hardly remember now...
I'm terrified of being alone.
Reality sings from a distance.
They won't even pull you down.