ELLINOR ; i breathe in

i stumble across the railroad tracks in the steadily growing shadows of twilight. simple stars splattered across the sky in varying, indescribable patterns. the city lights burn holes in the darkness. green says go. and red says stop. and the white lights mean you’re stuck. in this temporary, transitory state of pain and boredom. so far away, in a place where the city’s heavy smog has not yet landed, there is a howl at the moon. it is the wolves. and the cold night are burns on my pale skin. it tightens, tense, drawing in on itself, pulling at the contours of my bones. i shiver. heavy winds. a train is coming. i breathe in. it hurts. the night is coming. i’m good. i’m gone.