August 2, 2015

Static fills the space inside my head.

Steel support beams hold up brushed stolen ceilings,

And there are strangers crammed into tubes of lead;

This machine of moving parts pushes us all together.

She’s crying because her baby is two aisles away.

He’s crying because he’s a baby and his mother can’t stay.

I’m crying because I can’t get home in time.

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