The chase continues forever
I know running is a burden
That you've seen your share of grief
I can empathize with the feeling
Of not knowing where home is
Or even... what "home" is
When the tears catch your pace
And everything feels lost
When misery creeps up on you
And you can't escape the haze
When the marathon has run it's course
And your down to your final breath
Find the strength to call to me
Find the will to follow me
And together, we will overcome
Our fingers interlaced
Nevermore to be displaced
We will walk away
No reason left to run

I'll never forget the day,
I raced through new york city.

There was only one adversary,
He claimed to never lose.
He was fast and scary,
unpredictable and menacing.
I surely couldn't prevail.

Nevertheless I ran, I raced,
We were head to head the whole time.
Running with no time to waste,
Dodging puddles and pedestrians.
I even hurdled a rail.

The finish line crept into sight,
We were still neck and neck.
Running fast enough to take flight,
I realised this was my race to win.
I knew I couldn't fail.

I lengthened my stride,
I pumped my arms.
And with one last kick and a look to the side,
I leaned into the finish.
I won.

He walked around,
And caught his breath.
He approached me without a sound,
But to my surprised he stopped and smiled.
He shook my hand for what I had done.

I will never forget what happened next,
inside an infamous hot dog restaurant.
Waiting for fried twinkies out on the decks,
He told me this.
It meant a ton:

"Today you beat me fair and square,
I tried my hardest, but I failed.
We will race again, you better prepare
But if you race with that much determination,
I will never be able to beat you for fun.

I jogged back to where I began,
With quite a story to tell.
I wasn't supposed to have ran,
I put others at risk.
But if I hadn't chosen to run,

I wouldn't have learned how to beat myself.

I had become more aware of my surroundings. With my obscured vision, I trembled up the mountainous stairs, to find comfort in my divan. The wind blundered and blasted the shutters allowing shivers to roar down my spine. I drew the covers restlessly over my body. Sleep would not grace me with its presence as I tossed and turned, thrashing about the bed. Why did it feel so unwelcoming, so foreign to my touch? My eyes drifted towards the window in search of comfort. Wind cried from the heavens as the maleficent feathered silhouette made himself known. My vision began to haze as my eyes settled into the crevices of my head. I couldn’t take it anymore, the fierce gaze of the raven was too much for my heart to bear. I clambered to my feet and made my way to the kitchen, stumbling through the halls as the wine took effect. As I clung to the kitchen door-frame, there it was; my means to an end. With an unholy determination, I grabbed the pearl gripped revolver that lay on the kitchen counter besides the key to the cabinet. How it got there, I haven’t the slightest idea. I was inhibited within an ineludibly eternal oblivion.
My mind filled with hatred towards the ruffled being as my sweaty palms grasped the bronze handle that I flung open with the desire to end this misery bestowed within my soul. I had of **** it for this misery to end, I was compelled to end its life. The raven vanished as if knowing my pursuit.
This was it. Barefoot I ran, though my legs were long past exhaustion, I kept running. Trepidation had driven all other thoughts from my mind, leaving the only instinctive urge to abscond. And so I ran.

I've run away before.
Not for an overly good reason.
But because I didn't know what else to do.

I had no ID, no licence, no accessories.
Nothing that could possibly describe who I am or what I've done.

So I ran.
I went to the end of the block and turned right...
And the right again.
And again.

I ran around a block, but still ran in a circle.

Back to where I started.

My mouth dry, legs weak, heavily breathing and sweating out the 15th fever this week, and it's scary to not have a justifiably good reason to be here or to run off.

I want to scream until singing is a lost memory but I would not do that here. Not when I still have enough energy to cry.

And I do cry.
More than I should.
More than anyone should ever have to.

Running in the middle of the street not even close to being scared of the cars speeding down the pavement.

And yet, there are no cars on the road.
Open.
Empty.
Nothing.

I do want to disappear sometimes.
But I wouldn't do that now.
My suffering is already a public hanging nobody watches.

I ran away.

And I would run out of the city and never return.

The only problem is...

The only place I was ever taught to run to...

Was home.

And even that doesn't seem to exist anymore.

So where can I go?