He was heading close to the edge but never showed it.
A hurricane game, ready to roll, bases loaded.
He was spending too much time out of mind, head screaming.
He was distracted,well, most of the time.

Couldn’t go to sleep. Couldn’t stay awake, mind drifting.
Out of body. Out of the world. Shape-shifting.
Everything was different. Nothing was real. Eyes ablaze.
Losing track of who he was and where he was at.
No time for days.

Stepped outside of the freight train and stood outside. He knew he couldn’t stay.
Too much time to think and to distract himself. He had to get away.
Took himself to somewhere safe but not too far. He still had some ties.
Wanted badly to return but he could not. He had no alibis.

He didn’t want a preacher man. He just wanted someone he could tell.
The taxation on a guilt-ridden mind was taking him straight to Hell
On a runaway train.
On a runaway train.