It smells vaguely of citrus on the train.
My mind insists on wandering back to
The time I saw...but there lies too much pain
For me to think about it. If I knew
That this would happen; ah, but knowing would
Change everything. I can't imagine that.
I stand again where once before I stood
And see the same things that I once stared at
But everything is different. I did not
Want to be here...by why would that change things?
It hardly matters what it is I sought,
Only the smell, the thought, the pain it brings.
Where was I? On the train? Well, let it go.
The pain is all that's left now, dull and slow.
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