Crumbles

It's a day of waiting for trains. Hours waste away in the depths of the City, as I stare down into the darkness of the tunnel, hoping for light. Stare long enough at the rails and you will see it; you will imagine it grows with approaching transit. I am tired, so tired now, and I just want to arrive. I entertain the idea of walking in there to meet it but freeze just at the entrance. 

Instead I take unsatisfying breaths that do not fill my lungs like I wish. 

There is never enough air

down here.