The train

I loved you though loving you nearly killed me.

Years of agony, a wasting disease, a waiting game.
Waiting to see if you'd beat your daemons or if they'd beat you.

But while I waited, life did not,
it forced its self on me like an unwanted suitor,
and though I fought, it gradually wore me down.

I took other lovers, lived other lives.
But part of me was still waiting at the station for you.

Trains passed and passed as I sabotaged myself in an effort to hold on to you,
to the pain.

Your friends hung me with weights of guilt
and though they pulled my neck to the floor 
I wore them like jewels.

Bystanders watched as in vain I tried to rise, 
but why should I stand when you couldn't.

Trains passed

Men tried to fix me, some did to an extent.

And time, like sand eating rock, 
brought with it understanding that crawled slow and painful across my face. 

I realized that over the years I'd been gradually shedding weights long the tracks.
Until one morning with a child on each hip, I found I was strong enough to catch the oncoming train.