PrettyThin

Mile 0:

Curled, coiled in on myself.

 Clawing as her

gnawing words

 Eat at my emptiness,

pluck at the taut, twanging, tinny twine

that holds my pieces all together.

Coiled, burning,

Yearning to

Spring.

Mile 1:

There is power in this pushing

past the

premonition that I am

Powerless.

Pleading for her punishment.

 Mile 2:

Pounding,bounding,

bearing down on you.

 A  rabid beast, teeth bared,

a battle brewing in my breast.

I catch your scent (your sense).

This burning flesh, this bloodied fool:

Can't you see that it was all for you?

Mile 4:

The lengthy, lonely strides of

 Longing.

 Her susurrant voice surrounds with

 simple solutions.

Starve.

 Mile 6:

 I wonder:

Will I will her away?

A tiny sip of water to

wash away the sweaty, salty, sticky

anxious answer:

I've always wanted her to stay.

But I've found freedom in this fleeing,

flitting further from this flaccid form.

The fire falters.

I still keep warm.

Mile 10:

Swaying simply in this sweet surrender.

The wind is your caress,

fingertips tracing the cooling silence swelling in my chest.

Side to side, stride suspended in this sensual lullaby.

Transfixed,transfigured,

I unfurl myself –

Uncoiled

Stretched

I catch the wind so you can see

this scared,scarred, sacred part of me.

 Mile 12:

The heartbeat in my steps,

the breath caught in my breast

form bandages to wrap my wounds.

Bless this blood:

It was all for you.

My sinews stretch to seek your stare,

grasp your gaze,

this strange affair.

Eternity flows in the bitter sweat

running in rivulets

down my spine

(bones held together with the twanging twine

of hope:

 I'll be good enough this time).

The knots she tied, I've broken through.

These splintered bones,

they are all for you.

Mile 13:

Across that line

 I crash, crumple,

 crawl back to her feet.

 "Again."

 Her demand.

I am coiled,clawing

at her gnawing word: again.

Because bruised and blistered (battered, shattered, screaming as you stare right through me)

is just not good enough.

I am coiled, burning,

yearning to spring.

I will run forever. (Always in her shadow.)

I will run forever. (Always one breath behind.)

Just a small poem about the way I feel when I run.