I Didn’t Run

Even at twelve I knew I would die

As all things do

It doesn’t keep me up except this once

As I cry for no reason about that kitten I couldn’t save in the turn lane on a random street in LA

Stripey orange and so loud

How no one else heard it I will never know

I didn’t run

Twenty-one and paralyzed with a lukewarm emptiness for hours afterwards

What would you have me do?

Than run now until I fall

Down the many endless roads of my childhood

I still remember how the backyard smelled

How the wood floor felt beneath my feet

And when I close my eyes I don’t know where I am anymore

Am I still small and tireless?

Where did I learn to become so sad?

The walls feel the same here as they do all the other places

The same eggshell white and single-pane windows

Cool and unmarked

In my older dreams I catch you as you fall

We’ve been running so long now you can’t remember anything else

And as we sit I remember everything

Cradling my universe in open palms

Small and tireless

Desperately lonely and later so endlessly tired

Neither of us has the better of life

For all the memories or lack thereof

To each our specific mournings