but the edge keeps moving,
keeping pace with my every step,
refusing to submit to my ardent desire:
to throw myself off,
to fall off the edge,
to see the end of it all
as it begins again
and again,
each and every day.
heart pounding
breath burning,
running through the pain
running through the frustration,
finding peace on the other side,
after getting my heart started again.
Calves and Quads
burn with soreness
as I walk down stairs
wishing with each step
that I was in better shape
but not enough to keep running.
the railroad tracks behind my
old house
remind me of the roads i
used
to
want to take
and how i left many of them behind
to write and to run
writing brings my fingers joy
and running brings me delusions
filled with grandeur
i don’t write too good
my england nor so too powerful
but i’m probably the best runner in the whole wide
world
when i run
beside the railroad tracks
behind my new house
my fingers are happy now
i need some delusions
