Ship sail

All it took was a simple 200 mile journey.
A simple 200 mile journey that had been taken hundreds of times.
It wasn't until a convesation was struck with an important person that this journey made an impact for the girl blooming into a woman.
Two decades plus a year was when her roots started to make sense to her.
She had been struggling lately to understand friendships, hardships, and lack of ships setting sail.
The ships that didn't set sail were just ships that could not handle her steer.

The Haunt

Why is it that you are so haunting to me
You would think I would choose to do everything to distance you from me
But mentally you incase me
There is no escape
I try to not even have a single thought of you trace my mind every day
Every day there you are
Somedays, yes I have done it to myself
Other days like today you did it to me
But there are a few words that have me questioning why it is I am so distraught
What. Who. Why.
What: Is it that you even mean by one simple word and one simple piece of punctuation
Who: Is it that you are even directioning that to
Why: Is it that you just have to choose something so simple to say
I'd like to think you know how this appears to me
But you could careless about me
You didn't even know what you meant to me
Or at least you pretended you didn't
I am still questioning that these days when I think of you

Train

She needs the sounds of the train yards to get her by in this life.
The thought of brush strokes make her feel like puking. But the smell of paint is the sweetest fragrance for her.
The way that spray paint tickles her nose makes her dream harder than when she lays her head to rest.
Even if there are whistling trains in the background. She still dreams the hardest with a scent.
She dreams about all the artists she surrounded herself with.
She has always been one to lust for those that will never love.
And artists are always guilty of this. Their first love is always their expression.
In these dreams she recalls the happiest moments with some of these artists.
She didn't lust all of them physically. Mentally. Emotionally.
But one, she did fall in love with for all the wrong reasons.She shouldn't have ever done such a thing to begin with.
Said to be, Pure lust with all the fixings that follow.
That artist is gone now.

And that is why you find her needing train yard sounds.
Her only friends these days are the train yard guards.
Such an odd friendship.
She has to be toe to rail close with those passing train carts.
The key benefit of these new friends.

Eyes peeled wide waiting for the sight of the slightest unfamiliar paint splash.
Nostrils flared waiting for that scent.
Instead of lusting artists right in hand now she lusts the ones she'll never touch.
How many more experiences she gets all from simple carts traveling across the land.

But those experiences will never replace what those dreams of past hold.
How those dreams bring those artists back.
Especially the one that made brush strokes.
Brush strokes that made her smile the hardest.

Train **pre recreation**

She needs the sounds of the train yards to get her by in this life.
Although the thought of brush strokes make her feel like puking the smell of paint is the sweetest fragrance to her.
She loves standing toes edge against the rail and smelling the newest art encasing those train carts.
You see the way that spray paint tickles her nose it makes her dream harder than when she sleeps.
Dreams tangled with those she lusts for. Constantly lusting for those that will never love.
Artists mainly. Boy how she dreams about those artists she has surrounded herself with.
Dreaming, lusting, and loving those happiest moments experienced with one another.
Don't mistake this lust and love for just sexual attraction.
But there was one that she fell in love with for all the wrong reasons. She shouldn't have ever done such a thing to begin with.
Come and gone now.
With the most meaningful friends miles away now she is findinng herself seeking approval from maybe the oddest group.
The train yard guards.
They hold the key for her to stand toe to rail close when those carts roll in.
Eyes peeled wide open waiting for the newest hint of where these trains have been.
Even the slightest splash of unfamiliar colour gives her new hope.
Nose cleared so she can catch that sent.
Ears empty only in these moments so she can hear that whistle.
These steps make finding relationships with these unknown artists traveling this land so much more concrete.
Cause without paint, lust, love, and trains life just isn't complete.

**I had originally wrote this piece before "Train". I thought I had lost it and had tried recreating it to the best of my ability, but sometimes at 4:00am when you've lost something so amazing you can't manage to find those words again. Thank God I found them.

Knuckle Up

For days within this life she had thought she was just being punished. She thought all the people who were supposed to be her friends, best friends, were forgetting about her. She had often questioned why she was putting herself in situations to be surrounded by them if she always felt this way. And then the one love who would never leave her reassured her these people were in her life for a reason. These drifters per say weren't here to punish her. The situations she put herself in weren't meant to be unrewarding either. If that were the case they would never occur. After all things often seem to happen for reasons. But these situations were meant to teach her something in the end. It took one statement from that never leaving love for this all to click. She had tried forcing herself mentally to think this already but the wisdom that woman spoke sealed it. So sealing like that lick on the envelope before love letters are sent overseas. Everyday still she struggles with facing the changes of abandoned friendships but everyday she knuckles up to learn the meaning behind it.