The Train That Took Him Away

The Train That Took Him Away

The train that took him away

howled at the dawn like a curse

steam biting the wind,

metal grinding the dirt from its path.

He stepped on alone,

one bag, no goodbye,

just the twist of his mouth

and the way he looked down

so I wouldn’t see his eyes.

That winter, the silence grew sharp,

rooms colder than frost,

nights cruel as debt.

He’d said he’d find work,

he’d send for me later,

but letters came late

then stopped altogether.

I heard talk,

heard he’d been seen

in smoke-filled bars

spending loud

laughing like gold

ran through his veins.

I waited

stiff as the chair by the window

fading like curtains

torn at the edge.

Spring broke the frost

but not the wait

until the same train cried out again

screeching back through the dark.

He stepped off,

greyer than I remembered,

a limp in his stride

and shame in his hands.

He said nothing,

just held out a ring

that didn’t shine

and called me love

like it still meant something.

I took it

and swallowed the words

I’d rehearsed too long.

Now I sleep by a man

with dreams full of soot

and hands that twitch

when the wind sounds like rails.

The train took him away once,

but it brought someone else back.

And I still wake cold

with his name in my throat

and rust in my chest

where hope used to be.

I know he isn’t happy.

It’s there in the way he stares

at nothing

how he smokes without blinking

how he walks like a man

halfway gone.

Sometimes

when he thinks I’m asleep

I hear him whisper

like he’s bargaining

with a God who won’t answer.

I know he wishes he was free.

There’s a weight to the quiet

a wall in the bed

a look that drifts

past my shoulder

like he’s watching a door

that won’t open.

But I can’t let him go

I love him, you see.

Even like this,

with his heart in a cage

and his soul stuck between

the train that left

and the one that returned.

So I make him coffee,

and fold his shirts,

and kiss the scar on his neck

like it’s still part of the man

who once made me feel

like no one else mattered.

Even ghosts need company.

And I’ve learned to live

with the ghost that came back.