I travel by train and I look out
My window, my legs are too close to the grey-man beside me
Headphones in, power chords, progressions
I am progressing, and my knees
Need a shave; they catch on the silk of his suit.
Sponging on masks for my sisters
Deft hands and chipped nails
I know what I am doing; midnight taught me
To plaster art over the Nature of epithelium
Because youth should be beautiful and unblemished
Empathy is uncomfortable.
I grip metal handles that sap my warmth
Open doors for strangers
I should know them better, and I am ashamed
Makes up for words I don’t have
I always look away first.
There is power in being alone.
Loneliness lets you observe the music that
We are all secretly harboring
I like to capture the hush-secret songs in
A worn black notebook that I keep in my
Which is a little too small
For this world, I think.