It started in the night and continued through the day. The wish to find my running shoes and throw it all away. To head towards the setting light in search of a familiar face. Only stopping for a moment to check if my shoes were truly laced. Finding only that my soul continues to wear with every passionate stride. Falling apart to the rhythmic concrete as my laces became untied. Reaffirming my life’s simple intent with every double knot. To find the life my days and nights had truly ever sought. So with tightened lace and replaced tongue, I bandage my blisters and refill my lungs. Hoping their overuse will lead me away, towards life greatest intent found in my nights and days. And as my blisters bleed again and my soul starts to rip, my lungs begin to give and my tongue finally slips. The winding road roughens and the weather begins to shift, as the distance of my journey becomes my life’s greatest shrift. Persevering for the days and nights that I simply would not act, and would only settle willingly on my life's beautiful abstract. And so I struggle through the pain in search of my perfect pace, which could lead me to my destination and the life I seem to chase. But the journey itself does not begin until I abandon my old ruse, and replace them with the souls of my used running shoes.