Running

Despite what my cross-country record might say,

I am very good at running.

Running late,

running behind,

running away.

Running to anyone

who’ll give me the time of day

when I’m feeling

some type of way:

like everything’s all wrong

and I have no one to count on.

I’ll run to you

even when you don’t want me to

and run away from you

when you get too close.

I’ll run headfirst into walls

so you can catch me when I fall,

and I’ll run and hide

when you look me in the eyes

and tell me it’s fine.

It’s not fine.

I’m running all the time.

My legs are getting tired

and no one’s close enough to catch me

when they finally give out.

It’s not fine.

I’ve been running all night

and now the sun’s coming up

and I’m running out of fight.

It’s not fine.

I’m running out of reasons

to stay awake

and I am running out of time

to make it out alive.

I’m running low on gas.

Someone catch me.

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You'll find "Running" on page 36 of my book, "Flames Speak", out now. Buy here.