The girl who ran away

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"And I want you to keep running. I want you to get up and finish the race. You have to finish."

Run, run as fast as you can.

But here I am wondering if I can even stand. Collapsed I'm wondering if I'm just best seen as collateral damage. 

I run, mostly from my problems. But they're catching and I'm falling. 

They're the flames and I'm the trail of gaseolone, it is inevitable that I'm going to burn up. 

The soles of my shoes resemble the soul beneath my burning and itching skin. Worn down, cracked, tired.

But I get up and run because that's what I do.

I run away.
From people.
My problems.
Myself.

I know it is inevitable that they'll catch but I keep running like the world keeps turning despite the possibility that a burning meteor could come and destroy us all.

"You run away."
"You run too."
"But you run faster."

And I wonder why you want me to keep running, why you push me to go faster? 

If you're the disaster, the fiery meteor, that puts an end to it all, all I can say is that I wouldn't mind. 

Out of all the things that could catch me and cause me to catch flame, you would be my favorite.

Because a simple touch from you burns up my rationality and all thoughts of leaving.

If I had to turn in my running shoes, I'd give them to you.


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