I can’t stop running
but I don’t quite know
what I want to leave behind
or what I’d like to find.
And I can’t seem to figure out
just where you fit into that.
You’re in the way my chest
swells up like a balloon –
far too close to popping open
like my calves overstretching,
near to breaking my latex skin.
You’re in the rush of blood
that makes my skin burn hot
and in my lightheaded stumbles.
I can’t find a place for you
when you’re in every move,
every twitch, leap, fall.
So I’ll just keep running
until this starts to make sense
or else until I’ve burned away
all but my muscles and bones.
