Bullet

Hard sole against the rail
The night air cold through the trees
Smokers in the back ground
Laughing
In the park sharing drinks

The train, a black mass of heated machinery closes in
And I think …
‘Hail satan
It’s the closest thing to a god
Man has probably ever made’
And step out

I feel the air move against me
As time slows against the racing of my heart

I don’t see hippy holes
Or Friday night lights
I don’t have any regrets

I see
What I’ve always seen
What I couldn’t escape
I see
49 acres of woods
That I ran through growing up

I see a peach hanging perfectly
In an orchard somewhere in Georgia

I see the shores of Normandy
I see presidents dying
I see a race to the moon

I see a hospital
With a patient screaming
a family crying outside my door
I hear a man coughing
His bed banging against the wall
His lungs fighting against the fluid

I see a bridge
A book
And water

I hear
a train moving
I see blackness
I feel cold

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