Tell me about your secret places (place)

At The Station

I sometimes see shadows of myself here, walking.
Or folded into corners, watching
Wet crows taking bits of me like worms.

I have jumped a hundred times
Shrieking on the metal tracks
I grow like grass between the stones.

Here I am made small.
Here I own nothing.
I pull the world off like a shredded raincoat,
Transfixed by loss.