PLATFORM PURGATORY

September 2024

‘Have I always been too much,

or did I just never try hard enough to be less?’

I stare up at the conductor, hoping for answers.

He stares back. His eyes are blank.

He just wants to see my ticket.

These tickets keep appearing in my purse.

I didn’t ask for them, I don’t pay for them,

they just show up and tell me where to go.

I don’t have any plans, so I guess I’ll go along with it.

I stand at the platform and  board my next train.

I don’t know where this one is going. 

The train I wanted had left already.

This always happens.

Always a few minutes too late for what I want,

so I guess I’ll go along with what the ticket says.

My luck is dumb, my body’s numb, my mind is somewhere else.

I stow away my suitcase, check my ticket, find my seat. 

They book me into first class now,

I’m still unsatisfied. 

I have a window seat again. 

Let’s settle in and look outside-

There never used to be this many clouds.

The conductor says ‘it’s not that bad.

You’re in first class, why are you sad?’ 

He offers me a glass of wine.

I think I’m fine, so I decline

and ask when I can leave.

‘You’re not supposed to ask that.

How come you don’t want to stay?

Everyone else enjoys the journey,

why can’t you just be okay?’

I stare at him, waiting for more. That’s all he had to say.

So I’m no closer to my stop, 

no closer to an answer.

I’m pacing through the carriages, trying to find the door,

but there’s no sign of an exit

and I just want to get off.

I’m banging on the windows now,

the glass won’t budge. I’m crying out

‘just let me off’, but no-one comes.

The train won’t stop.

I’m stuck.

Nobody else here wants to leave,

they’re happy with the journey.

Carrying themselves so gracefully

from one stop to the next.

Why am I unravelling?

I don’t even think they can see me.

If they can, they choose to ignore me.

Do my cries for assistance fall on deaf ears,

or is it just that nobody cares?

It’s okay, I’m quite used to being let down.

-

After what feels like years, a new ticket appears

in my hand. The train finally grinds to a halt.

I’m the only thing moving, I run to the door

(guess there was one). It’s open.

I’m back on the platform.

My ticket says board the next train to the future.

I’m tired of the future, I think I’ll stay here.

-

In platform purgatory,

at last, I’m alone.

It’s finally quiet, I’m finally still,

and I let it swallow me whole.

-

That’s the end, I think.

I’m not sure.