A Face on a Train

She’s just another face on a passing train,

searching for a smile when she reaches her station.

But there’s no destination on her ticket,

there is no one waiting for her on the platform.

You see, she’s on the one way train that never stops.

She’s on the one way train that never stops.

 

She sits on the train going nowhere.

The blank ticket is clenched in her fist.

She struggles to remember that far away name

of that station from where she came,

and to where she’s going

on that train that never stops.

 

Her face flashes past station after station,

Never slowing down,

Never speeding up.

Different Strangers claim the seat next to her.

Different Faces claim her heart.

There was the freckled-face girl and the sun-kissed boy.

She laughed with the girl and giggled with the boy.

But sooner or later, as they always do,

That freckled-face girl and that sun-kissed boy

Found their stations and on the platform was the smile.

 

And she sits on the train going nowhere.

The useless ticket clenched in her fist.

She struggles to remember that far away name

of that station from where she came,

and to where she’s going

on that train that never stops.

 

The tracks stretch endlessly before her.

The tunnels are forever dark and bleak.

The empty seats surround her,

every one of them filled with ghosts from her past.

Broken promises crackle over the speakers.

Fresh wounds cause pain to her back,

as the train speedily carries her away

down, down, down its rusted track,

and she finally realizes that

her metal train can never stop.

 

Anger furrows her brow as she

rips the false ticket to bits.

One tear for the cowardly boy.

Two for forgotten promises hanging in the air.

Three for the ghosts suffocating her.

Four for the friend who forgot—

That wily freckled-faced girl who forgot.

 

Alone she sits on the train going nowhere.

The useless ticket shredded to bits.

She’s forgotten the name, ‘cause it’s so far away,

of that station from where she came,

and to where she’s going.

She’s on that train that can’t ever stop.

 

With a loud cry she sinks to the cold, hard floor

joining that ruined ticket on the ground.

Resentment, Bitterness, Pain swell up inside her chest,

and come bursting out in the form of lonely tears.

 

And the ghosts press forward,

And the secrets grow louder,

And the tunnels will never end.

She cries and cries and cries among

the ruins of her ticket.

Salty, thick tears flood her face.

Hot, painful tears blind her eyes.

Wet, thick hair sticks to her hands.

Yet she sees every face and feature

of the Faces and Strangers who left her.

 

She was not wrong for crying for so long.

She was not shallow, whinny, or weak.

For she stared every Face and Stranger in the eye

and and them “Why?”

 

Why did you leave me on the one way train going nowhere?

You knew this ticket was useless in my fist.

You knew I struggled to remember my own name.

Could you not look at me and see?

I promise to no longer hide.

Will you stop and stay with me?

 

How long she must wait for an answer she’ll never know;

maybe someday her soul might heal.

The Faces of the Forgetting can never fade from her sight,

but each new tear heals her painful heart.

 

Raising her head, she looks at her ghosts.

They return to their empty seats around her.

Their vocal secrets become a background noise

as the throbbing pain in her back fades.

With tired arms she pulls herself up and picks a new chair,

the empty one whose back used to face her.

Tired yet determined, she gazes out her window

as the barren landscape flashes passed,

and thinks that this one-way train,

that barrels away,

it will, someday, stop.

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Five Minute Friday: Lost

Getting lost doesn’t normally scare me. I’m the type of person who likes to get lost in the woods or city in order to better explore it; I like to loose track of time as I wander. However, when it comes to planing out my future, I don’t like the “lost” feeling that coming with it. I don’t like feeling helpless as I stare into the unknown. I am vulnerable and exposed when I don’t have a set plan for my future, and I don’t like it. I hate not knowing things, it makes me feel useless and ignorant.
Lately, I’ve been dealing with all of those emotions as I try and plan out my life. But the more I do that the more I realize I can’t because I don’t know what’s coming, I don’t know what exactly the future holds. It’s easy to let the feeling of being lost overwhelm me to the point where all I can do is sit in my house and stare listlessly at the walls, unsure of where to go, unsure of what I’m supposed to do, unsure if I am waiting on someone or if I need to make the first move.
It’s easy to get stuck there, it’s another thing to stand up and take back control of my emotions and feelings and thoughts and fears about the future. I don’t have to let the feeling of being lost control me anymore.

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Linking up with Lisa-Jo and the FMF writers again! We “free write” for five minutes about one topic without editing the post when we’re done. It’s a chance to let it out and learn from each other. 🙂 You can check out her blog, and other FMF posts, here. Enjoy!

Five Minute Friday – True

Not going to lie, when I first saw the word for today I hoped I was looking at the wrong post. Being honest and truthful with myself is very difficult for me to do, mostly because I don’t always know what that looks like. If you were to ask me what my “true self” was, I wouldn’t know how the answer. I hope I would answer “Daughter of Christ,” but who knows if that would be the first thing that comes to my mind.

When I tried to answer that question, I tried not to think about it.

I am not an open person. It can take me over a year to warm up to someone and trust them completely. Even then, it doesn’t always happen that way.

Maybe it’s because I’m scared of getting hurt. Of getting abandoned. Of being rejected. But mostly getting abandoned.

It’s happened before, I just can’t remember by whom. I just know the scars are there. People will move in and out of my life, as I get older I’m learning this more and more. but there is a difference between moving in and out and abandoning a person. The latter kind hurts more than anyone knows. But the thing is, I’m scared I do it to others. I don’t want to, I don’t mean to. But sometimes I think I get distracted by my own busy life and forget to care about the people around me.

And for that, I’m sorry.

 

 

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This is me writing for five-six minutes without editing and with honesty. It’s not easy; but I won’t stop being honest with myself and others.

Linking-up with Lisa-Jo and other fmf ladies is something I’m starting to look forward to every week. Enjoy.

Confession: An Overwhelming Week

The other day I was at Wal-Mart when I happened to grab THE CART. You know that one I’m talking about, the one with the gimpy wheel that forces the cart to constantly turn to the right. Never had I experience driving such a stubborn cart. But did I switch it out for an easier one? No, because I am more stubborn than that cart, and by golly I was going to prove it! So I grabbed that sucker and forced it to go in the direction I wanted to. I proudly grinned to myself when I finished my trip, knowing I had won. However, victory came at a cost. I was frustrated the entire time I was at the store and the carpel tunnel in my wrist started to hurt badly by the end. By the time I made it to my car I was proud I made that cart obey me, but deep down inside me I knew the frustration and the pain in my wrist wasn’t worth it.

There are days when I feel overwhelmed and frustrated. I feel like I am behind on my homework, staying in touch with people, and life in general. This past week I have realized that I am an indecisive perfectionist. I want things to be perfect, but I never know when they are (Advanced Screenwriting homework, I’m lookin’ at you). So what do I do? Take charge and make a decision? Heck no! That’d be too easy! I wait around until I absolutely have to make a decision, and usually that ends up stressing me out even more.

Why do I do that? Because I don’t like the easy route because, well…. it’s easy. I like to challenge myself and will often purposefully pick that harder route so I can feel awesome when I accomplish it (hence my shopping cart adventure). But usually I don’t feel awesome. Instead I feel worn out because I spend the entire journey stressing out over how hard it was, and then beating myself up for picking the harder homework assignment (or the stubborn shopping cart). Why? So I could prove I’m awesome. To who? I guess just me; but if other people notice that’s fine too.

When will I learn better? I honestly don’t know the answer to that question. I still have a lot to learn, but living in God’s grace helps me to forgive myself. So I’m going to keep trying my best, telling myself I don’t have to be perfect and then give myself grace when I don’t listen to my own advice. That’s part of what growing up is, right? Learning to give yourself grace? At least I hope so, because I’m going to need a lot of it because that’s not the last stubborn shopping cart I will encounter.

I Recognize Myself in Celebrities

What is there to say that hasn’t been said already? People have already written so responses to the VMAs that my head is spinning. Some I agree with, and some I don’t. But I do know I don’t despise anyone for the choices they made there. Instead, my heart simply breaks for them.

Why would it break? I can promise you it’s not because I think I’m better because I’m in my little corner where I’ve done nothing bad in my life (which isn’t true, just to be clear). My heart breaks for them because I remember. I remember life before Jesus. I remember the need to do my own thing so people respect me. I remember the desire to be loved but not stopping to ask myself how do I let that happen? How do I let down the walls around my heart so I can experience love? I didn’t know and I didn’t care. I was happy to do my own thing while assuring people that I was following Christ.

I remember when I finally found the courage to stop running and ask God and myself the tough questions. Why? Why do I feel this way? I thought everything was supposed to be better after my “conversion” in 8th grade. Why do I care about what people say about me? Why do I always try to impress them? I want to be me. I wanted so desperately to be the “real me,” but I had no clue who the real me was. If I didn’t know who I was, how can I be real?

I remember reaching rock bottom.

Not many people have reached rock bottom. The way you get there is always different, but you know it when you’ve reached it.

Rock bottom is lonely, and you have no sense of direction to know where you should go next, what you should do to get out. Your only thought is how wretched you are. You see yourself, your real self, for the first time.

In my moment of horror of my wretched self, I remember how God immediately came to my side and told me He loved me. He loved me! That’s all He said, and He said it again, and again, and again!

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Those three words were the only things that drew me out of rock bottom. I did nothing. I could do nothing to pull myself out from the pit I was in. All I could do was sit and soak in God’s love for me.

When I watch people breakout in anger against celebrities, I can’t join them. How I live my life is all I should focus on, not how they live theirs.

Sometimes, though, I do wonder if there’s anything I can do to help. I’m just a girl from Northern Virginia who’s been living in Kentucky for the past three years, what can I do? And God reminds me that all I can do is pray. And since I already know I can’t do anything, I let the God who can do something act.