Today I'll run, a bag on my shoulder packed lightly, there is nothing here I want or need anymore. I'll be the silent girl staring down the track, waiting for the rush and hum that will remove me from certain death, into uncertain life.
Today I'll fly from you, This fourth finger scar tissue always mine never yours, stunts circulation now and strangles every last breath from my scream dry throat.
I long to cry freedom for I have tasted enough salt water within our age of discontent. I have created oceans in your wake as I cling with broken fingers to the raft of my sanity.
Today I'll run, tomorrow I'll hope for the courage to stay.