ROCHES TER

in the mor nings, my bus passes over a br idge . under that br idge , there is a r ailroad r unning towards the hor izon, stretching out into the sky. i like to listen to stupid sad music and look out towards that r ailroad i like to pretend i’m tr aveling on it on a tr ain going somewhere far away from here but that’s only in my head then i look forward again to the road to school. there are windows looking down onto the road from my histor y class. i like to look out of them and onto the street below. i like to pretend i’m tr aveling on that road. i’m dr iving somewhere far away from here . but that’s only in my head. then i look forward again. to the whiteboard. to the teacher. planes are in the sky almost always i look up from the ground i’m stuck to and i like to imagine i’m if only i could escape the thoughts taking up space in my head. if only i were actually on that tr ain, in that car, on that plane . if only i weren’t stuck in this place , in this secluded headspace .