The train's wheels screech on the track,
The steel has arrived at it's destination;
As have most of the passengers,
But two: Rebel and Katie stand on the platform,
Each engrossed in thought,
But not of each other.
He thinks of his next step,
Unknown to him: he has run from the only safety
He has ever truly had.
He has run into a waking hell.
She thinks only ever of him,
So near at last, and yet so far away.
He is closed to her,
Distant.
Together they walk into the town,
Completely lost. She clings to his arm,
Dependent on his misplaced affection.
He wishes she were somewhere else,
With someone else.
She does not know,
Could not know,
Where he was going. Only he knows.
The motel was run-down,
Had been for many years.
But it was cheap.
The hour raced past midnight,
As the Rebel and Katie sleep in separate beds.
He has no love, nor lust, tonight.
She sleeps in her waking nightmare,
Unloved, and unwanted.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem