Every step I took was controlled.
I had to resist sprinting,
my life on my tail.
I'd taken a quiet road,
begging something to happen.
Anything.
I knew I couldn't run from this,
(and really I just needed something to run from)
but the road was open
they'd never find me
though it left marks in the air,
they couldn't track my breath
and there was nothing else to track.
I could have left.

I don't care about being famous.
A well-known life isn't necessarily
a better one.
The one thing I do care about,
is lack of normality

I wish this life was enough for me
but it's not

every empty road calls to me
like a lover left behind
every day,
like an opportunity lost

I need adventure so badly it hurts,
and I wonder if I got it,
if I'd stop sitting on cliffs
while I contemplated what it would feel like to fall
what the wind rushing over my silver hair would feel like,
whether or not it would be worth it

I've contemplated death because it holds more potential than my life.

I understand that I shouldn't.
But on more than one occasion,
I've stood with the intention to fall.

I've walked on roads
with an intention to run.

I live every day in dread of having nothing to fight.
I've been cursed with such an easy life, when I was born with a fighting soul.