“I’ve been run down and I’ve been lied to.”

-The Allman Brothers Band

I’m not gonna let them catch me so I run. I run on canned green beans, I run with swingers and cats, I run away from coke slingers and frat boy fingers. In grade school they said I run funny. Now I run conscious of the way my legs bow and turn. My feet are strangers I can’t leave behind. I run. I run. I run. I dont even like running but fuck if I ever stopped could I start again? Once they had me, what could I do? My heart feels like my lover loves me no more my knees are like broken rubber bands. I run with heat cheeks and dew lip. I tripped, once, I was left bloodied and wet tied to the whipping post. When I’d heard the song enough and it no longer sounded like music, I ran again. Now, like then, I think of my grandfather. Eventually it was his voice I heard and his humming I hear now; his fingers on the guitar. I run. I run. I run further than three steps but, mister, I need three steps more. That’s a lie. I’m running out of breath, out of song, out of batteries again dammit. I’m not even that fast and yet I run. I’ve never entered a race and yet I run. Actually, nobody is chasing me and yet I run. I run. I run. One day someone will catch up, one day they’ll make me stop or one day they’ll run with me. The road goes on forever. The gravel kicks up every time I lift my foot I can feel my shins take the force. I never stood still even as a child I ran through four or five counties. I ran for five-ever and stopped counting. I ran then to friendship. I ran to my mother. I ran home. I ran and left my laughter somewhere in dust; when I realized I started running to myself. She never runs away. I haven’t caught up