Running Away

I have my feet under me

I know where I’ve been and what

I’ve seen, I’ve taken it into me

like a song, when it first plays

on the radio, I know longer skip

on the fourth beat, I pay close

attention to the space between

the notes and I know, again,

who I am, a being of head and

heart, a being who no longer

really believes in the idea

of original sin;

But every damn time I drink

all I’m doing is running away

again.