The train pulls away,
The train pulls away,
and my heart drags behind,
weighted with memories,
with the pain you left in me.
A short love,
yet I was bound completely,
woven into your silence,
clinging to your absence.
You do not wait,
you do not turn —
my leaving is nothing
in the rhythm of your days.
But I carry it all,
the laughter, the wounds,
the fragile hope
that still trembles inside me.
And as the tracks stretch on,
I wonder if moving forward
is possible,
when the past
still holds me hostage.
The train pulling away. Your heart dragging. The tracks stretching on while you wonder if anything will ever change. Those images stay.
I kept 'woven into your silence, clinging to your absence.' The bind of it, tied while they are unmoved. That one stays with me.
This feels like you are at the exact middle of something, not knowing which way it goes from here. That is the worst place to be.
I need to know what you do when the train stops. Do you go back, or do you actually try to move forward?
When you wonder if moving forward is possible, do you want it to be possible, or are you just asking if it is even an option?
I have sat with this feeling in a hundred different homes. You carrying someone while they are not carrying you. I think everyone knows this.
the part about being nothing in someone else's rhythm is hitting really different right now
when you say your heart drags behind, is that the actual metaphor or is the train pulling away the thing that hurts more? im genuinely asking