The faceless women

The seat I sat on felt too hard. The air too suffocating. I was alone. Along with my sorrows. The grueling facts of life haunting me. Confusion following me around. Many stops came and went by but I remained alone. Until a couple got in, somehow I could tell they were a couple even though there was no physical indication as such. The man was tall, with abnormally large hands. They seemed to hang around, flopping about, seeming too useless. And then there was the women, I looked at her, without knowing whether she looked back. Her face hidden. It was strange not knowing whether she was looking at me or not. So I quickly shifted my eyes away from her, and looked out the window at the blur of trees, and people. Delving once again into my deep confusion, not knowing where to go, what to do, how to do. Choices looming at me. But unknowingly my eyes shifted once again towards the couple. Now they were talking, low whispers inaudible to me. They seemed to be arguing. But I realized quickly enough that they weren't arguing, arguing took two people. Here only the man was talking, and she was listening, nodding and shrinking back. And then she said something, something more then a monosyllable. Right away his large hands shot at her wrist and held it, not affectionately. The women froze, and so did the man, they stared at each other, the man with a stern expression, the women I imagined with fear. For a few seconds they stayed so, and then suddenly the man released her hand and they both went back to staring out the window. It suddenly struck me then as to how much I had. So much more then this women. Much more then many others. I had freedom, I had choices. Having confusion from choices is having life. Not having any confusion is having no life. I got off the next stop, with a resolve in my heart, and the faceless women's face always inked into my mind.

Thicket, that of an Amity

Maybe if I had stood a little longer,
I would have understood
I would have realized
They were just words and nothing more.

Sugary, syrupy, charming words.
That had me tripping, before I knew.

And now I have fallen,
headlong into a thicket of dishonesty and deceit
Tangled, wanting to leave.

What I see maybe isn’t.
What I don’t see maybe is.

Confused and lost I feel.
And sad.
Knowing not only have I lost an amity
But also the capability to believe.