Friday 6/22/2018 10:45:00 PM

the ritual becomes us. fiber and muscle solving its equations. the stutter of how. as the bridge approaches. time's thieves incredulous. as our choices dissipate.

it's loud. the thunder of footsteps. as we gain momentum. spilling ourselves into the future's empty glass.

flesh only angles. bones only edge. as we choke on the hurricane of surrender. headless dolls in limp dresses. scavenging for words barely spent.

we're not there. nor do we want to be. it's the approach. the journey that moves us.

scabs on the soles of our feet. gashes on the backs of our thighs. all the brutal measurements of struggle that indicate we're alive.

we're runners. with nowhere to go. we're screaming, but no words come out.

the end came and went. there was no need to say it was over.

1 comments:
Unknown said...

I don't know about you but I'm no runner.

moanlisa.com



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