I run ,
and I run,
And manage to go nowhere.
Yet you are everywhere.
Without even so much as a glimmer of a memory, you resurface.
You refuse to be bottled up and it shows.

Some days you are steam and smoke.
Other days you're as gentle as bubbles floating by.
But mostly, You show up all washed up along the shores of my mind.
A subtle but ever present memory of You.

But I run. I dodge. I swiftly swat the lingering thoughts that waft through my head.

Sometimes you're a raging voice,
Or the silver sound of laughter rippling through.
You just can't be restricted, can you ?

So tell me how I should best rid you of my life.
Because it seems at this point;
Running is futile.