take the 5:00am train to nowhere

There is a fire burning inside of his ribcage. It burns and it engulfs, melting bone, scorching skin, charring organs. He lives and he breathes, and the fire grows, untamed, uncontrollable.  He screams to the heavens, and his throat tears and aches, a million words echoing out to the stars. The clouds grow thicker, and rain pours from the heavens, splattering onto his skin in a thousand kisses, but he does not feel anything at all. He is cold, somewhere deep inside, and his skin prickles with shivers, his body racked with tremors. He pulls his coat tighter around himself, ignoring the way the fabric sticks to his chest, damp and cool, and waits.