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The Grind

Sparks fly as the trucks carelessly caress
the steel of the rail.
Like a blacksmith in a machine shop
left and right the balance shifts so
as to not tumble off
and scrape my face
against the unforgiving concrete.

Down down down gaining speed
with every second.
I can feel the fear inside me
combating the adrenaline.
Two lions fighting over a meal.

As I prepare for the dismount,
Time is slowed.
Every second becomes a year,
and I can remember when
I was young and promised we
Would last forever.

I can remember barely hearing you
whisper that you missed me, finally,
over the blaring music. My back ached
from standing for hours, begging the
headliner to take the stage.



With a final kick I put an end
To this relentless journey of uncertainty.
Coasting on polyurethane wheels
Snatching at the street, at the heel.
Gripping to the asphalt like a child
yearning for its mother’s warmth.





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