You might think the Chicago train system is not exactly the safest place on Earth, you may be right. You might think it's just another shitty American public transit system that doesn't get enough funding every year to make it even close to what people want it to be. It may "always be late" or "never goes fast enough" but that's all hearsay. I have a different theory for you. In a world where fences are built around every individual sector and plot, where everyone has an out-group they choose to ignore or live in fear of. On the Chicago Transit Authority you find yourself among new people. They might not all exactly be strangers, and they might not all exactly be friendly. Yet all of them have a unique perspective on how the CTA runs. When a train stalls do they hop on their phone, talk with a neighbor, stare at the towers of cement fantasies, or freeze as though time only runs when the train does? The next time you enjoy a relaxing inexpensive rid eon Chicago's spiderweb of transportation, I invite you to enjoy the human spirit alongside you. Each and every one of you is filled with the same exuberance and joy just to be there, because we're all traveling. Maybe not to the same stop, but we all smell the same mysterious odor, gaze occasionally at the familiar ever expanding skyline and ask ourselves. Where am I traveling to today?

Drip, drip, drip, let that faucet drip

Leak gently into the sink

It’s a deliberate purposeful drip

Moving slowly so the pipes don’t freeze

Full blast faucet

Splashing wildly creating a mess

Not only that but you're wasting water

What happens when you run out

Nothing at all?

What’re you crazy?

The frozen pipes will burst!

That’s one hell of a fix

So why don’t you wait to send that text

Why don’t you wait to press that button

Let patience take hold

Wait to let all that anger flow out

But don’t no do anything at all

We’d hate to have a flood

The cost alone

And the repair time? Jesus

Drip, drip, drip

Just let that faucet drip

This is a familiar place

Screeching brakes and roaring rails

The overhead speaker shouts so gently

yet , it’s much slower than usual

Losing elevation into the tunnels

Patterns of lights flashing by

It almost looks like a straight line

Picking up the pace now

This place houses strangers

Maybe an occasional friend

But mostly foreign entities

All playing the same patient game

Much faster now

Zipping down below the skyline

Although that won’t be clear

Till you leave the station

We’re sprinting to the finish

Horn blasting, conductors tired

This tunnel feels much longer than before

I might just be lost

Warm heat washed your face

Burning wood colored the ground

Blowing embers graffiti the black night

The red, yellow, and orange

Birthed a new age of emotion

One that replaced old sorrows

On this land

With these people

There is a home

Enjoy it while you can

Because don’t let the heat fool you

This warmth is only temporary

But for now escape

To an imaginary distant world

Fly away with those burning embers

The wind blew his hair

Whipping wild and free

The waves crashed underneath his feet

All he did was stare

How long would you fall

When would you want to stop

It didn't matter the water seemed so close

Murmuring Waves echoed like screams

The longer he stood

More thoughts rushed to his mind

His weight shifted

Standing at this familiar place

It was a devotion to him

Hearing the guilt over and over

feeling the immense pressure

Where else would a sinner go to pray?

The water started to make it quiet

Even from that far away

His throat closed up

Finally

He'd never been so thirsty in his life.

There's something I feel lately, Like a chocolate chip on hot summer pavement.

Maybe that's a good thing, I'm not sure.

This kind of feeling happens often, like it's biological or even a key part of me.

Maybe that's a good thing, I'm not sure.

It's not a feeling I can share, I don't radiate melting like I do when I'm joyful, furious or excited.

Maybe that's a good thing, I'm not sure.

It started when I was young, Like when I was lost and not sure how to relate to people.

Maybe that's a good thing, I'm not sure.

There's people that make me feel like this, Boyfriends, Girlfriends, Friends, pets, and strangers

Maybe that's a good thing, I'm not sure.

If the music is right, the lights are dim, I can even make myself feel like this, just alone.

Maybe that's a good thing, I'm not sure.

I felt it recently, melting, I was wandering in an area I'd never wandered before, overthinking concepts and events that I'd been around the block a thousand times with. I found myself standing on a bridge, the bridge was ornamented by litter and two padlocks imbued with the one of the same initials twice; As cars raced by below, the world began to move in slow motion, the headlights became lines of light painting neon yellow and orange racing stripes below, on this bridge I melted wishing there was no fence there.

Maybe that's a good thing, I'm not sure.

Blinding headlights and busy intersections

blowing winds, plane cruising overhead

boats fly down the river, no worries of detection

trains zip by, not sidewalk dead

Constant noise

Loud never quits

urban cowboy

Ride through these streets

how can I find silence, on these noisy nights

it's not dangerous only loud

this skyline of booming clamor

never ending silly racket

Maybe the reason I feel so close to you

on this night that comes so rarely

here in this bed, in this room

in the darkness

It's finally quiet.

White robes and chanting

You see the target to save

Through the crowd galavanting

will you be quiet or brave

A sea of animal heads

dancing around

A woman nearly dead

not too late, don't get found

Your heart beats faster

action abounds

don't be scared of the laughter

the music slows down

the crowd creeps closer

screaming hellhounds

you yell look away

catching them dumbfound

run as fast as you can

the woman in a gown

stick to the plan

the town is southbound

Greeted by police

you're out of jamestown

forced to your knees

betrayed, and cut down.