I never sit long.
Sprinting, I try to outrun myself. I try to outrun You.
Climbing, crossing, ducking, cursing my path through tangled webs I hide-
If I don’t stop, I can’t see where I am.
With speed of flight my lines are blurred, my soul thin.
Burning recognition blinds me and I fall.
Bloodied knees hit the ground where I’ve run out of road.
I have to stop.
Knotted and tied beyond value, my only hope is to remove the footholds I held.
I’m laid bare,
And I’m no longer running,
‘Unlaced. Outpaced.’ Really like how you did that, in what is an amazing poem. Thank you for sharing.
Wow!: With speed of flight my lines are blurred, my soul thin.