The Runner

The Runner

a Poem by Raquel Swann

As the contents of my heart

Spill onto the floor, I watch

As you lace up, barely glancing back

Ignoring the sirens,

Blaring in the backdrop

Of shattered day dreams.

You cover your mouth

With open palms

And dash out the front door

to breathe the air you think is pure.

I won’t chase, I can’t.

Some truths must be discovered,

Some paths must be taken

Run far from here,

Before it’s too late.

Pressed lips in dark corners,

Like a single gust on a windy day,

Powerful in that tiny

Moment in time.

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