Poem: Derailed

  • There is no freight train of relentless thoughts as my mind is derailed off the tracts to a sudden halt and I am flung into the night.
  • The clouds are hot above my skin as I float downward from the sky.
  • Time is the first sense to fade, reallocating into a sense of timeless reverie.
  • Sound trickles in like songs from the blue jays surfing the star filled sky.
  • As the cool breeze ripples over hot flesh, the songs become words, barely audible.
  • My sense of speech is lost behind the rise and fall of my chest.
  • Words melt onto my tongue and flow out in sounds without form… I am speechless.
  • I am blind to the world, sight reallocated to my sense of touch, as if to feel the colors and shapes of the night.
  • The clouds wash over me and the train idles in the glow of the night.
  • I regain my sense of sound and find my words floating in bubbles just within reach.
  • All my senses float down as the train regains it’s tracks and slowly moves along picking me back up to my feet.
  • I am left with blue jay painted murals streaked along the side of my train of thought, keeping a sense of derailment within reach of my senses.
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