BUS, THEN TRAIN, THEN METRO, AND REPEAT AT THE END
BUS, THEN TRAIN, THEN METRO,

         








         AND REPEAT AT THE END alice stories
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joana
joana Lost unicorn trying to be kind
Autoplay OFF   •   7 months ago
Reflections while on public transportation

BUS, THEN TRAIN, THEN METRO, AND REPEAT AT THE END

The days that follow path with very little sleep feel hollow,

The days that follow path with very little sleep feel hollow, my autopilot does not consult me in any decisions or makes any effort in trying to wake me up enough to even ride along.

My body is missing a lung and working with half the blood it needs,

My body is missing a lung and working with half the blood it needs, because I haven’t found the resting time to restore its flaws and rebuilt what is broken each day.

The little pieces of flesh and organs are loosely hanging off ever edge of my insides.

My soul isn’t any better.

It’s not that it has never been broken;

I am shattered by nurture,

but this year,

but this year, aided by conditions of isolation, exhaustion, and desperation,

but this year, aided by conditions of isolation, exhaustion, and desperation, took me back to very dark times of my past life.

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