lost in thoughts and memories,
lying stretched across two seats
feeling the restless rumble
with pictures of this girl
I'd never hold anymore on my mind
and eating expensive chocolate bars.
I was filling the small metal trashcan
which smells like ashes
with paper wraps.
I looked outside, the sun was about to rise
on the cow sprinkled fields,
ready to unveil the farms, the forests,
the landscapes
you only see through a french train window.
Always the same, as the smell
and the cold metal of the vent marking my elbow.
I could not shake the last image
i caught of my friends waving
leaning against a rail
one of them holding a coffee cup
steaming in the morning cold.
Them who sat with me in this house,
separated from the world,
laughing and singing,
not thinking one of us could be sad
on the phone with his girl
who had stolen all of his life.
The hour would come when our time would be over,
leaving only reminders:
sand in our shoes, music in our heads
from the strings that we strummed
or the song that we sang.
Some had already left.
Even though i was there
meeting their eyes across the room
listening to their words,
my dearest friends,
my mind was already gone
my eyes looking away
as they did on this train.
Drowsy, i felt it
would never stopped.
I imagined the end of the railroad track,
me standing at the edge of the world that i call mine
and a brand new one stretching in front of my eyes.
I was alone
with my twenty two years and a one-way plane ticket.
This one goes out to Kate (even though not about her) for giving all its sense to the Internet.
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