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I think I am scared to love.
I’m not used to being the vulnerable one;
The one that stays;
the one that is brave.

I do not know how to love.
I don’t know how to let my walls down
To let my fears out
To put my heart on my sleeve.

I want to love.
God, I want to love,
but my hair smells of war
and running and running.
My hair smells of war and running and running and I'm scared to trip and fall into this crazy thing we call love.
Lizzie Aug 2020
If I just drive far enough,
I'll leave my worries far away.
If I just drive fast enough,
They'll eat the dust of yesterday.

But there's only one world to go around,
Only so far before you're found.
And once you've hit the end of the road,
Suddenly there's no other way to go
But back.
It’s drizzling

But it doesn’t matter.

I am running,

Around the Jawaharlal Nehru stadium

At Kochi.

The ground is wet,

There are water patches around.

So, I take careful steps.

As I go around,

I see a young man,
In a hoodie,

And track pants.

He is talking,

On the mobile phone.

Standing beneath an awning.

Must be to his girlfriend,

Because he is smiling.

I think to myself,

‘What a wastrel. Do some exercise. Get fit’.

But he is oblivious.

During my next lap,

I see,

A friend has joined him.

‘Two wastrels’, I think,

As I start panting.

My middle-age lungs,

Are aching.
But I like the suffering,

Because it makes me feel good.

When I stop.

On my third round,

They are peeling off their track pants.

I run on..

The drizzle has eased up,

A cool breeze is blowing.

My perspiration-drenched forehead

Gets some relief.

Running triggers

Something primitive in me.

This is what man did,

For thousands of years.

Before the invention

Of the wheel.

I can hear the thud of feet

Hitting the ground

Behind me.

It sounds like heartbeats.

Then these two young men,

Whom I derided,

Whizzed past me

At high speed.

Smooth electrifying movements

Of hands and feet.

‘What?’ I exclaim silently in my head

My perception was

Oh so wrong.

They are athletes,

And they are swift.

And they splash,

Through the puddles.

Fearless.

So I had simply

Misunderstood them.

That’s what happens to all of us

We misunderstand

People.

Places.

Communities.

Religions.

Spouses.

Children.

Parents.

Relatives.

Is it any surprise,

Society is so fractured.  

I feel like a fool

Message to me: don’t jump to conclusions,

Ever.
c Jun 2020
I have been falling in love
With finding distraction
In every person I meet
Wasting time is all I seem to do well

I am running out
Of time to waste
And I’m not sure
I can distract myself
Any longer
Strying Jun 2020
I can't stare at one place for too long.
My eyes start to water as the thoughts,
wander my mind.
My brain is surrounded in darkness and evil,
as soon as I stop for a moment.
Even if it is just to think.
To breathe.
To be.

I can't seem to relax,
always on the run.
Stressing about something
THAT SHOULD BE FUN!
It's holding me back,
but I'm "not diagnosed,"
so I guess it's okay.
I guess I'm okay.

I never go to a therapist,
so I guess that I'm lucky,
I guess that I'm healthy.

My mind isn't empty,
so I guess that is good,
But the clutter comes at me like nails in wood.

I can't seem to stare,
at one place,
at one time.
My mind always running.

No way to
stop
now.
Just some thoughts about how people sometimes don't go to the doctor and say the truth or even have the opportunity to easily open up about their mental health. THIS DOESN'T MEAN YOU SHOULDN'T CHECK IN WITH SOMEONE. If someone opens up to you and you just say "well you don't have depression/anxiety/bipolar/etc," you could be missing a cry for help. You don't have to assume they are faking an illness. Just listen and be there, and do your best to help. Stop dismissing, start listening.
keith daniels May 2020
breaking morning with the birds,
she glides beneath the rising sun,
a vapor trail of sweat and spent breath
drifting in her wake.

muscles taut, brow poised,
a stream of hair - airborne ribbons,
and stones shudder beneath her feet.

thundering along the hillside,
she beholds the world as it fades from grey
and the truth of things is shown
with the death of night.

another mile and she'll turn around,
set course for home,
return.

maybe.
Meditate how you see fit. Do what you're doing, as you do it.
Zack Ripley May 2020
Once again, everything has changed.
This time, it was for the worst.
But we'll be okay.
Because we've always thought it was more important
To help an injured runner than finishing first.
We do this because in the end,
It doesn't matter who finishes first or last.
As long as we stick together,
No matter what we face, we can kick its ***.
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