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The tracks hum beneath the steel wheels hushing past trees and trash, sweeping the landscape, and she is along for the ride.  She is quiet and content in being alone.  There is a beautiful ache in traveling alone.  Perhaps it is the commencement of something brilliant, the peace of introspection and her own company.  Other parties involved may view it differently.  She knows we all have our own realities.  She gives them the benefit of the doubt.  However, she thinks it sucks when someone else’s reality has some influence upon her own when she doesn’t realize it.  It is the only refuge, her voice, the solitary elegance of her redemption.  For if she would not be alone, she would possibly be lonely.  Then she thinks of him.

She never asked for much, not from him.  If she asked for more, she would have received less.  She is more than enough woman and poet to keep courage.  She’s tempted to compose music among a stranger chorus.  She longs for a past when she was free and peaceful, collecting love and no time.  She shared the moments with friends and was embraced with creation and fresh life.  There was darkness then too, yet it was merely the other side.  It was the shelter of peace, forming a triangle which was her world.

She retraces her journey to this train ride wondering how this could be her life.  Was her view misconceived?  Had her judgment been altered by an opposing force?  She often doubts that she sees that which others see.  This is particularly the case if the events, in truth, directly have all to do with her.  If she feels as though she has done no wrong, she wonders if that would be true, through the eyes of other people.  Somehow they see fault, though they do not blame her.  Perhaps she blames herself.

It is a loud voice within her which speaks much though says nothing ever.  No thought, no feeling.  It is a presence she does not recognize as anything to do with her, until she gives herself.  This is the primitive method which would provoke condemnation.  Though she realizes it is what she wished for because she believed it could bleed him.  Now she knows she was wrong.  And she is left with nothing.  And there is nothing left to give.  So she escapes on the train.  Escaping violence to enter shelter.

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