and when they pulled you from the tracks your body splayed and split your chest flushed bright as it was in life
when they pulled you from the tracks mindful of your separate halves your face relaxed lying flat upon your back
body blushed beneath such crushing weight stolen in your awkward stage that you never would escape
the same stain that decorates your chest and face with a scarlet mark of shame when you'd stutter out of place
and when they pulled you from the tracks your eyes gone milky white strangely alive
strange, this would come at the same age that your mother took his name and labor pains would collapse her fragile frame
city lights (evolved and off the bay) from the streets where you were raised and taught your place by the stifling younger days when its all been washed away with the color from your face tracks traced in pain (from a woman) waste away