We were uncertain
of each other's feelings
hoping
they would be as our own

When you said goodbye
for the last time
it moved my heart to the back of my throat
and and my tears to the back of my eyes

Every fiber within me was fighting for love
for you

Unaware, I ran
It felt as though my eyes were closed
and yet I still knew my destination,
It was you

Let me tell you one thing
before time alters this memory
Let me tell you that I love you
before you express your apologies and flattery

.
.
.


It embraces me,
the feeling I never want to forget;
when all nerves within me fired impulses
as you spoke "I love you too"

I wish I could write about this
Yet every sentence
Seems to be a run onn,
Intertwined with the lines
On the road that my mind is drawn to

My phone keeps buzzing
And my mind is shut off
5 missed calls
4 people saying
3 words,
Don't leave us.
The bass of my brash decision
Pushes on my leg,
Reminding me to stay in my lane.
2 times I tried to pull off these vines
That drag me to this train station
Of the dark side of my mind,

I get out of my car,
Hands sweating,
The air seems heavy
As I beckon to the ticket office

I say hi
Yet the ticket clerk looked low to the ground
As she shreds the ticket
From her defunct hair
Causing the gates to limbo adjacent from her open.
I take a deep breath
And I take
1 step forward

Go outside.
Because outside is where the beasts lay.
They'll run with you all the way,
In such a sprint that you never tire
Or lose your breath
Or shiver your legs
At all.

Outside is where the sharp angles rest.
Deep cuts in straight lines, red blood dripping like rain,
And stones that have been cracking for centuries but never broken.

The great outdoors, that's where the fairies live.
They'll love you like you never knew love before.
It's the raw lips that kiss the roughest,
The calloused hands that hold on the tightest.
The rock-kissed fingers, they're designed to never let go.

Soft lips bruise. Mountainous lips live on forever.

Supple skin burns. Hard-cut edges light the flame in the sunrise.

Well-rounded means spoiled. Raw spirits mean earning the spoils.

I always want to run

Like a swan
floating so gently through the water
wading through the ripples
but at the first sign of trouble
it leaps from the cool iridescent pool
wings flapping heavily
flying away as fast as it can

I ran away from friendships
hardships
relationships
from my home
my family

I convinced myself
that I was brave
a lioness
ready to fight at the sight of any trouble

but I know myself
I run

Like a child
I leave a note
or say a short farewell
and I run
as fast as I can move
and as far as my legs can carry me

And with you
I wanted to run
Every pore in my body
on fire
wanting to run
anxiety coursing through my veins

I wanted to run

And yet I stayed
grounded
and after a moment passed
I just wanted to be closer

In this house, ruckus occurred.
the bathroom was filled with tears,
tears from scrapes and cuts and bruises
the kitchen filled with the sound of forks scraping against plates
the bedrooms filled with dog hair
the living room filled with snores from those late nights
the hallway filled with dirt from those muddy days
the bedroom walls filled with posters
the bedroom floors filled with clothes
In this house ruckus occurred
the bathroom was filled with broken glass
the kitchen with cans and jars,
lying still on the floor, covered with dust
the bedrooms remember
the faint memory of boxes and suitcases
the living room filled from the televisions soft glow
a warning broadcasted from above
the hallway filled with clothes pushed to the side
to make room for more
the bedroom walls filled with holes
the bedroom floors filled with blankets and more dust
In this house, ruckus occurred.

fluttering wings behind the chest
ache to fly, escape distress
restlessness         
running, pounding footfalls
trailing ink and dust
ripping out old histories swept
like shadows, autumn leaves
dried
wind roar’s, a creature’s huffing breaths
a hundred animals’ ragged scraps
tied
a hundred thudding paws, round rabbit eyes
           compacted
ducked and weaving scales
challenge life with glistening teeth
snarling string
pins patches
of hides and growls, teeth and pinions, strength and sinew
into straining sails, a roving ship
a part of me.
gusts through patchwork roars and screams,
hull of a thousand long lived trees
of tales ingrained
a vessel flies with nature’s need
furious escape

If you can be poor with someone, you are rich.
If your well is dry, you are the bridge.
If you can go with them with nothing, you are something.
If together you chase your true calling, you can stop running.

-Gloraeanna

the small boy leaning against the high grass, feet perched on a rock
looking down into the turning water of the river below

Running forever, for days on end, nights running, even when sleeping the mind never rests.

A miraculous (mi-rac-u-lous) winter stunning of silver and gold
glitter being tossed in the air as the sunlight comes over the white hill
dancing on the hanging ice, shuttering trees dressed in lace.