How a life tricks and trots underneath the soles of your feet, impossible to keep up and stay standing, but what can you do besidest try. I take a long run along the river to try to excise the demons from within and am surprised when it turns out to work. My muscles are too tired to think, the demons curl up in dusty corners and haven't even the energy to build shame about them. I think there was a time when I expected more out of life, when I thought there might be fireworks, or time well spent, but instead it looks an awful lot like all the things I meant to escape, only with louder streets and crooked flooring.
A life runs away underneath me, yells and whispers into alternate ears. Sometimes I think I am escaping the Darkness.
I hold on to those moments, try to piece together a puzzle in which a different life may appear. One where I open my mouth and air reaches my lungs. One where the sun rises on the inside of my eyelids just as well as out. It seems there was such a life once. Sometimes I think I find it again.
Sometimes I think I can keep my feet on the ground.
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