runaway
creeping futilities
running was easy
easy to do and easy to feel
the briskness of it—wind
in my hair, carrying my body
through the world without a glance
back, without a thing to feel besides
the chill of winter on the skin
but emotions festering, rotting in
the chambers of this soul, could not
be outrun; the creep of them was slow
and dark, chasing me down
as I ran from them, from myself
until I couldn’t anymore, and here
they stayed, and here they are
with me, and I couldn’t feel
them until I could, and now
I cannot run from them
any longer
About the Creator
angela hepworth
I want to erase the tears of all those who trusted in hope; I want them to be left with a smile on their faces.
-Madoka
I’m Angela! I enjoy writing fiction, poetry, reviews, dumb self-indulgent stuff, and much more. Come check me out! :p
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