the echo of skin resonates. the thunder of feet is a hollow triumph. alone, i cross the broken bridge. unable to feel the empty under my momentum. unconvinced by the chasm that’s opened up beneath my steps. i don’t fall. i just keep on running.
the wind is fierce. as the season tucks into its change. the rope is loose. as i negotiate tomorrow. it could’ve been real. as sharp as it was. so many little openings. but the scabs formed quickly. survival took over.
there’s the chemistry that acts as the catalyst. the initial reaction that creates the illusion. the lies that define us. structure and solution churning in a miasma of weakness.
we’re animal. instinct and need. engines roaring in idle. a thoughtful oblivion tender with conceit. a graceless ache that surreptitiously paralyzes.
i didn’t know how long. i couldn’t tell how far. i only knew i couldn’t stop.