Monday, April 28, 2014


I was inspired to write this by three hitchhikers I saw throughout the course of a day, but truly, I wrote this about myself, about the time when I was a runner.

Do you even know where you're going,
Thumb pressed to the sky
Belongings scattered clumsily
On the road beneath your feet?
Always leaving, always searching
Restless for the next destination
Happy for a fleeting moment,
Glancing lustily
At the newest town
Coming up over the mountains
In the passenger seat
Of a stranger's car
Your pulse may quicken
For a fragment of a second
But in a few days
The streets will seem tight and suffocating
The residents, uninspiring
The scenery dull and
Maybe even sinister
Until you bow to that silent urge,
The merciless master that is
Fingers twitching and toes, yet again,
Carried away
Feet blistering with too-quick movements and
Eyes shining wildly
As you leave

Never, ever
Opening a rusty and dented, nailed-shut heart
Long enough to call anywhere

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