Pussyboy

The Waiting Hour

Below the bus stop I sat
Feeling like a hopeless rat
Waiting for people who'll never come
I sat there like an idiot

I wrote that on steel pillar of the station. The train wasnt here yet and I was lonely. No signs called out the time that trains gonna be here. The budget cuts took care of that.

I looked at my handy work. It was neat. Poetry in my boredom by Niall Whoran. I chuckled hapless at the thought.

Presenting myself in a bout of vandalism indicating my own very luxurious and splendid profession. Well, that was a must a and a bust. Lookin at it, I felt some pride. Here it was, poetry by a whore who got a child out of partnership - I was gay so Hawaii's the closest to marriage then - and sealed tight by a shit load of money through marriage - it's been legalized now. Pathetic.

The white correction ink contrasted with the blackish green paint on the steel girder. I sat beside that. It was beautiful. It was real and it was me.

Come to think of it, this place was like me. I was above ground but I was hideous to look at and unbearable living with. I was far from suburbia high school whore from New Jersey. No, I was city hooker on the sheets and discreet on top of the streets. I chuckled again. This time, I did that somewhat more freely.

I mean, who else is here? I'm the only one here now. It's late and the train isn't coming sooner. One in the morning or not, I was damn enjoying this freedom alone here.

To other people, this would have been fucking scary. Alone in a train station waiting for a train with budget cuts on security shitting my safety in here. But I beg to differ.

I was free here. No one was here. And if anyone was, it's cool. No one's better than me anyway. We are all the same here. We have troubles and we have shit to fix in the morning that we have fuck ourselves at one in the morning to get ready for it.

Suddenly, the tracks rumble up. Clanking and shit, a train was arriving. The trains were convenient though but shit. I would shoot myself if I had to sleep with the noise of the tracks every night and wake up early for work the next day. Guess, it's just American resilience or ignorance. I don't know anymore. Kind of the same, really.

Anyway, I looked out to the oncoming train. Fuck you, it's not my fuckin train. It's not the train that could take me to Manhattan and take another train to Brooklyn.

Fuck you.

Just fuck you.

I grumbled again waitin for fuck's sake. I had a lot in my mind now and I just had to take the subway to the Bronx.

Why cant I just think for myself for once in the same spot? I mean, I get that this is New York but cant I stay put and just enjoy the big city from one place.

It'd be a miracle if I even catch my son awake now. Well, at least Zayn's there to take care of him. Givin me a lot of time to roam around. God, I feel like I'm gonna puke.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

Breathe.

I coached myself over and over. Then about four minutes, I felt okay. Now, I just wanted to cry. I really wanted to cry.

I was twenty-seven years old and I have no career. I was all alone except for my beautiful sweet boy who doesn't deserve me. I have an asshole of a co-parent who ruined my life by making me keep the baby and then bouncing off our lives six months in. My parents hated me because when they found about my pregnancy, they found out about almost every sexual detail of my life and they just shamed me and basically, kicked me out.

And then, I'm a whore. What kind of future could I even give my sweet boy? He had so much potential in life. He could be an astronaut. Or an engineer. Or a scientist. Or a writer. I had that potential when I was kid. And I lost all of it. I can't let that ever happen to Jackie.

With that thought, I sobbed. In the train station. In the, practically, middle of nowhere slash somewhere. In the middle of the night. In the middle of winter. I cried.

No one was there to comfort me. Sadly, no one could because I really had none. I wiped my tears with the gloves I bought on Canal St. What was wrong with me?

It felt like hours out there. I cried while I waited for the train. No one to comfort me. No friends to hug me. I was alone there. I was trapped and I was alone.

The next train came by and I got on it. Thankfully, it went all the way to Manhattan and where I could get on another to Brooklyn. I was still crying but who cares. I was alone there just like I've always been.