Images skirt my mind
Spiraling around
Adrenaline pumps through my veins
And a night run
Doesn’t sound like a bad anecdote

Miles burn holes
In the souls of my shoes
And my muscles tense
Under the traction
Of the hard concrete

I imagine cool air
Burning my lungs
Sharp inhales
And deep exhales

But what no one knows
Is that I keep secrets
Hidden beneath long sleeves

Because miles
Aren’t good enough
For the scale
And retching into a toilet
Wouldn’t illuminate
My bones

Metal and blood
Won’t re-stitch  
Too tight skin

Feeling like the five year old girl
That glimpses back at me
With wide bright eyes
And a vast imagination
I remember

Horses spinning around
Lights blinking colliding clashing
Candy painted lips
The smell of cotton candy
And how she loved
Carousels