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Fighting the urge to run.

Not sure where it came from.

All I know

is that I was not afraid

when sleep came over me.

Stopping at every sound.

Startling at innocent gestures.

So much to confound

and confuse me in my measures.

Stop it,

and start it.

And stop it,

and start it,


Close my eyes before the fist,

clenched up like a blow incoming,

but the punch never lands,

and I spend the rest of my childhood

waiting for the blow to fall.

It never seems to come.

No knockout punches this round,

just a thousand jabs to my subconscious.

No wonder I want to run.

No wonder I want to fight.

Mired in my own mind.

Feet stuck in the dissolution.

Stop it,

and start it.

And stop it,

and start it,


Try to build a perfect life.

Try to paint a pretty picture,

but it all goes to shit,

and I am left,

a broken vessel.

All the good inside

leaks out through cracks in my armor.

Guess I should have run.

Not sure how much fight I have left in me.

Doesn’t matter.

Doesn’t care.

The next round is coming.

In this world, or the next.

I know I’m not done with struggling.

Give it my best

and I know

I am capable

of better still.

I can’t give up

and I don’t believe

I will.

I’ll keep fighting.

I’ll keep running.

I’m not stopping.

I keep starting

over and over again.



DJR – 2023

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