Days such as these
I like to pretend
Pretend to run away.
I run away.
Sometimes to a city.
Sometimes a ghost town.
Sometimes to the country.
I run to remember and to forget.
I run to escape for just a bit.
To escape from what I’d rather not face now.
Days such as these
there’s nothing wrong.
Yet everything feels wrong.
Neither here nor there.
Everything in its place; yet, I’m out of place.
Just a small town girl in a busy place.
I’d like to think simple thoughts;
but all I see is complexity.
Especially with simply things.
It seems I’m slightly stuck.
At an impasse,
Struggling to grasp.
Even simple truths.
Only two things seem constant;
And I can’t be constant.
Always circling to square one.
Why oh why square one?
It seems not even a new place can escape square one.
So, why runaway?
Why runaway- even for a slight time?
Because.
Because, at least the air is clear here.
Because, at least, I can pretend.
Pretend, there’s not a response needed.
Pretend, there’s no one waiting.
Pretend, no one would be heart broken without a word from me.
Because, at least, I can bask in anonymity.
For once, the show’s out.
Unknown and functionally alone.
An extraordinary being, only structurally surrounded.
Why not run for real?
Escapism is not very mature.
It’s not the mark of responsibility.
Not proof of diligence.
Besides; what did running ever provide
Other than distraction,
Aiding procrastination.
Abetting destruction.
I’ve seen people run
Running to run away
They never ran from what they longed to be runaway’s from.
They convinced themselves they could. That they would. That they should.
Result? Permanently lost.
Never run so far that you can’t be found.
always go home.
So, I pretend to run away.
Fully aware, there are ties that bind,
this willing soul,
to people known as home.
Structurally surrounded by the places that make up home.
Don’t worry,
I’ll never run too far or for too long.
Just far enough to feel the distance and shed my resistance.
Until next time I pretend.
L.V. R
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