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44
The Echo Never Answered
<p><em>Pull me out of the train wreck.</em></p><p><br/></p><p>The steel has already torn through me.</p><p>My heart bleeds in places</p><p>no eyes will ever see,</p><p>and my soul screams so loud</p><p>it has forgotten what silence sounds like.</p><p><br/></p><p>There are words</p><p>rotting inside my chest—</p><p>words too broken to escape,</p><p>too heavy to carry,</p><p>yet too alive to let me rest.</p><p><em><br/></em></p><p><em>Pull me out of the train wreck.</em></p><p><br/></p><p>I'm drowning,</p><p>not in water,</p><p>but in the weight of every goodbye,</p><p>every wound,</p><p>every piece of myself</p><p>I buried just to survive.</p><p><br/></p><p>The deeper I sink,</p><p>the quieter the world becomes.</p><p><br/></p><p>I scream until my throat splits open,</p><p>yet all that leaves my mouth</p><p>are bubbles swallowed by the dark.</p><p>Maybe this is what dying feels like—</p><p>calling for help</p><p>while the universe looks the other way.</p><p><br/></p><p>Is anybody listening?</p><p><br/></p><p>Or have I become another ghost</p><p>haunting a body</p><p>that hasn't realized it's already dead?</p><p><br/></p><p><em>Pull me out of the train wreck.</em></p><p><br/></p><p>Peace is a cruel thing.</p><p>I can see its outline</p><p>like a light beneath frozen water,</p><p>close enough to believe in,</p><p>too far to ever touch.</p><p><br/></p><p>The road beneath my feet</p><p>was once cracked and dry.</p><p>Now it is flooded</p><p>with tears I can no longer claim,</p><p>and every step forward</p><p>only teaches me</p><p>how to sink slower.</p><p><br/></p><p>My hands reach upward,</p><p>but there is nothing to hold.</p><p><br/></p><p>No hand.</p><p>No voice.</p><p>No miracle.</p><p><br/></p><p>Only the echo</p><p>of my own desperation</p><p>returning emptier</p><p>than when it left.</p><p><br/></p><p>I am so tired.</p><p><br/></p><p>Not the kind of tired</p><p>that sleep can heal,</p><p>but the kind that settles into your bones,</p><p>that convinces your heartbeat</p><p>to loosen its grip,</p><p>that whispers,</p><p><em>"You've carried enough."</em></p><p><br/></p><p><em>Pull me out of the train wreck.</em></p><p><br/></p><p>Before the wreckage</p><p>becomes my grave.</p><p><br/></p><p>Before this ocean</p><p>learns my name.</p><p><br/></p><p>Before the silence</p><p>finally swallows</p><p>the last piece of me</p><p>still begging to be saved.</p><p><br/></p><p>If anyone—</p><p>anything—</p><p>is listening...</p><p><br/></p><p><em>Please.</em></p><p><em><br/></em></p><p><em>Pull me out.</em></p><p><br/></p><p>Because I don't know</p><p>how much longer</p><p>I can pretend</p><p>I'm still fighting.</p><p><strong><br/></strong></p><p><em><strong>Inspired by the song Train Wreck by James Arthur</strong></em></p><p><br/></p>
23
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