Friday, March 4, 2016

Runaway Train

                               My eyes are wide open, my hair is a mess,                                 
My blankets are tangled; can't escape from my bed.  
But the worst part is knowing despite my distress,
And I can't stop the runaway train in my head.

I'm feeling hung over, but had nothing to drink.
I expect to find shrapnel of my brains all around,
Left behind when due to unexpected ignition
My head just exploded, without making a sound.

Still the train keeps on coming, increasing in speed.
Filled with freight cars heavy with worries and fears;
And I'm tied to the tracks like the Perils of Me
Damn Pauline didn't show up, yet the audience cheers.

Was it something I said, or forgot to include?
Did I remember to lock the front door late last night?
There's the long list of things I still have to do.
Did I mess something up? Can I still make it right?

My thoughts are as tangled as the blankets and sheets
That are holding me hostage, twisted up in my bed.
The whistle is blowing; with no rescue in sight
And I can't stop the runaway train in my head.

Caren E. Salas

Photo: "Little Phil and the Nightshadows" Perils of Pauline


  1. The anxiety that life provides sometimes can feel like a runaway train. Love how you captured that in your poem Caren.