I run from my past.
I run from my pain.
I run from my fears and
from the things I cannot change.
I run from things I’ve done.
I run from who I became.
I run from the time I have lost and
from the mistakes I have made.
I run from what is now.
I run from what I see.
The images burn like fire and are
permanently etched in my memory.
My heart pounds through the ice.
My feet and the pavement are one.
Nothing can touch me,
but I’ve paid my price.
Yet still, I run.
I run until I can run no more.
I run until I fall to the floor.
Rock bottom is here.
Murky but still perfectly clear.
The past is the past;
it is said and done.
All I can do is continue to run.