Forward

Running up the hill

Barefoot and burdened.

Running

To what I'm not sure.

Some place far away from here.

I can hear the humming.

The car rolling.

The threats coming from the open window.

And then.....

it stops.

I fall to my knees on the hard wet concrete.

Rain Pouring.

Body aching.

And no matter how hard it is.

I have to accept.

There's no where to fucking run.

So I close my eyes,

With each pound to my body,
Is a pound to my soul.

Instilling the will to leave.
And the fear to go.

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