The sweat drips from your temples

Your insides burn

The rhythm of your footsteps

Whisper promises of distance

Your breath is ragged

Your throat parched

You have a sense of achievement

To have ran from bereavement

The gravel at your feet

Is like white sand with black beads of memory

Trampling them, crushing them

You move with lithe and grace

Away you move, towards something

Something you can almost reach

Almost touch, almost experience

A smoky thread of future beckons

& you run.

Your feet cripple and yet you don’t stop

Your back is wet, your legs leaden

But you have a goal in sight

And you’ll get there whatever it takes

If it takes all night

Things will look so different in the morning

You smile; you have a sense of achievement

To have ran from bereavement

You laugh; another bout of energy

Courses through your body

Propelling you forward

Yes – almost there

It’s almost light

You can almost see where you are now

Look around you, familiar visions

Your heart sinks

You came a full circle

Or maybe you never were removed

From this scene

From which you ran

Still here

Still here

But you won’t accept it

This won’t be the time you give up

You deny again

Close your eyes

Romance the darkness

& you run.


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