Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Running my way home

Avonwood Road

I run to the scene of my undoing

the day’s wounds. With each breath,

I blow screams away.

They lurk deep, pressing, about to catch me

in their noise, threatening

to make strangers

stare too long.

It is unimportant

why they push to the surface.

Screams find throats for whatever reason.

Run fast enough for long enough, and I convert mine,

break them. Pain now dispersed

muscle and bone, soft tissue,