The Platform is deserted
The escalators don’t run anymore
I stare at the tracks
The yellow line that I am not supposed to cross
Silence…I can breathe it…

I still remember your face
Fragmented memories though they are
Yet I’m happy
At least I can live with them everyday
They are mine…unlike you

My emotions have become mechanical
Triggered whenever I check the gallery of my phone,
I want to talk to you one last time
As I sit here waiting for the last train
But you don’t pick up…you never pick up
The train comes and leaves
But I haven’t been sitting here to board it

The yellow line…the tracks
I have to wait another day.