I am seated at the back,
this time, enduring the
stillness of the moment
with some sweating strangers
whose broad shoulders fight for space with mine.
I can close my eyes but cannot sleep a second.
I can wet my lips with my tongue but cannot speak a word.
I can move my fingers but cannot raise my hand an inch high.
I am frozen in the humid air from outside the window,
stuck motionless in the fast-paced wheels of the bus.
But I am moving away, getting over the warmth that I have imagined
and the actions that I have planned of doing.
I am getting over you,
leaving again
and again
and again
because I don’t want to wait for your misfortune
(or his)
though at the back of my head, I ask for it.
Like the state where I am now,
I am stuck but I have to endure until I alight from this bus of chaotic journey.
