I

has she and the countryside
ever driven you so mad that
before you've even thought about it
your runners have laced themselves up

you're running in the dark
your feet beating the wet gravel road
you trip on a cattle grid
it is mostly your own fault
but you curse this ******* anyway

each note from the music in your ears
releases that pent-up frustration
until suddenly you drop
the gravel drags the skin off your knees

they bleed. You kneel there for a second
gasping
throw your head up to heaven
or the stars
or whatever is up there
you ask for an answer

but you get nothing.
her voice ringing you can't run from your problems
but here you are, once again
proving her wrong

II

The trees either side of the road you run on
are mangled and twisted
like a witch's fingers
they're judging you, towering over you

little girl go home to bed
don't you know it's dangerous
to be out on your own
on a boithrín this late?
this is how people get taken, or *****, or -

oh shut up!
you scream at them in the dark
words and anger drown your lungs
*you're not my ****** mother