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Abstract

f="https://www.pexels.com/photo/yellow-and-multicolored-train-near-body-of-water-2867110/?utm_content=attributionCopyText&amp;utm_medium=referral&amp;utm_source=pexels">Pexels</a></figcaption></figure><p id="88e1">Here she comes. Here he comes? Here they come?</p><p id="5440">Pulling into the station, a hearty beast a flurry of chaotic confusion and twisted metal running too smoothly, never late.</p><p id="56f1">Nev

Options

er late.</p><p id="ea0d">Come on in, there’s always room. Take a seat, if you find one, take a lap, if there is one to share. Take a leap, please. Leave.</p><p id="5707">Please leave.</p><p id="dbbe">Who the hell is even driving this thing?</p><p id="6c18">Pulling out, all clear ahead. Of course. At least, that’s what the report said.</p><p id="f5dd">© <a href="undefined">KP_the_writer</a> 2021</p></article></body>

All Aboard the Trauma Train

Please move to the back of the carriage

Adapted from Photo by Ethan Sees from Pexels

Here she comes. Here he comes? Here they come?

Pulling into the station, a hearty beast a flurry of chaotic confusion and twisted metal running too smoothly, never late.

Never late.

Come on in, there’s always room. Take a seat, if you find one, take a lap, if there is one to share. Take a leap, please. Leave.

Please leave.

Who the hell is even driving this thing?

Pulling out, all clear ahead. Of course. At least, that’s what the report said.

© KP_the_writer 2021

Poetry
Fiction
Short Read
Trauma
Gender
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