I'm really good at running,
It may be hard to believe at first sight, but I have been running for my entire life.
Ask me what I'm running from, and I'll tell you where it started.
With fear.
When your body senses a threat, it produces adrenaline, increases your heart rate, induces heavy breathing, and signals the brain to make a decision, to fight, or to flee.
What was my younger self to do when I was unable to fight back?
Fleeing became my safety
But as the fear built itself a bullet, the pain could only ricochet itself into me 
So many memories of my feeble body yelling stop, trying to escape and having no where to hide.
I was drafted into a war zone of a home
where I was taught to thicken my chain mail skin, knew how to navigate the trenches of danger, but still ran any time I felt safe.
Safety came in doses.
In grams, mostly ******, the only shooting in this war zone was through needles.
I always dreamt of a place where I could become my own superwoman, a place where I could stop the shooting and no longer feel fear at every turn.
They say you shouldn't enable an addict, but if their drug dependency replaces your abuse, hand them the syringe yourself.
It's the rope I carried and gave so they could tie their own noose.
It's taken me a long time to accept the notion that parent does not equate good person.
I was conditioned to love the people who hurt me the most.
I was told that children who didn't love their parents were ungrateful and selfish.
Good kids love their parents.
But I.. I was a bad kid.
They thought I was a fighter because I layered myself in an armor of sass, and sarcasm.
Couldn't they see I was just trying to survive?
A war torn home and a fantasy of make believe heroes
I ran to find comfort, ran to find cover, ran to find a freedom we all hope exists.
Now, I'm still running...
Too afraid to stand still because if I slow down..
My past might catch up to me.