Running.A Poem by G. AndersonBarren feet. Red from running, slapping concrete, blistered from sleeplessness.
Light, bony, starving fingers, hard and numb, tracing the walls of your thoughts.
Eyes hungry for lights, but no tendrils cast through the solid walls. The solid walls of negligence.
A tattered, milky gown, ripped and dirty, scraggly, telling a story of its own.
My mind's been running all day. All night. AndI can't take it anymore. © 2012 G. Anderson |
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Added on February 28, 2012 Last Updated on February 28, 2012 AuthorG. AndersonDetroit, MIAboutI'm Gage. I'm lame. All my stories I have experienced in at least one way or another. I use this site for self-help on recommendation from my psychologist. So, I'm not soliciting sympathy, and I c.. more..Writing
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