‘Til the end
Beyond eight hour days
of coffee, work, and study,
throbbing frontal lobes
and overly- acidic emptiness,
I let the neurons fire
as they will.
I step through my eyes,
onto the electrified track.
There I hop a current
and ride
like a homeless man
on the subway
content to stare into the dark
until the end of the line
where the conductor rouses me
and tells me
I don’t have to go home
but I can’t stay here.
Alex Spears 24, Writer, Lawn Maintenance Specialist.
See more work by Alex Spears here.