Member Poem

Typing to save a life
Writing, walking, to hold onto my own
Wondering if it’s worth it, these lines of gibberish
These strings of noiseless notes with each step
Would it really be better not to speak?
Just to keep still.
I’ve never been one for rhymes,
And I’ve sure as hell never stopped for anybody
But what if it’s me?
What if I can’t keep quiet long enough to tell
Where the path will end
Where time will shift
And when my heart will stop.
It’s not all bad to be ignorant
Just so long as you keep it to yourself
Right?
Never blinking, never lingering, never singing
Out praises to others who know as little as I do
But what do they know?
This railroad doesn’t make a sound, and shouldn’t it?
Shouldn’t there be a whistle
Somewhere
Calling for me to focus
On a passing state of song
Calling for me to imagine what could be at the end
When it makes the next stop
I’ll wait and I’ll wait and I’ll change the color of my eyes
Whenever I get the chance
But until then I’ll disappear into the tracks
Of that silent train,
Waiting for me to board, waiting for me
To hand over the knowing and the place and the time
I will never buy a ticket
And I’ll never outstep this crowd
I’ll walk with them until the next city,
Until the next trip outside of this mind
We’re all just wandering through each other
Oblivious to the blood we leave behind
Making a mess of each other
Making a mess of the streets
Which is more important?
The road or the walker
I say myself
I’ll keep an eye on my own body and you keep an eye
On the cars that take us places
They won’t be there when you reach the end