Food

I decided one time
not long ago
that I’ll keep running
no matter who comes and go
but few miles in
and I found myself
running out of water,
food and breath.

shit.

I supported my arms on
my shaking legs and
looked down at my worn-out
shoes. they were
barely breathing, like
unconscious soldiers on
a battlefield.
how great it was to see them
being one with
my breath.

what a love story. what a tragic death.

so I stopped, and
looked around and
asked myself,
what do you do when you’re
hungry, and you can’t find
a restaurant?

you make your own damn food.

Every other freckle

she wanted
to be
rich

to look good
in that
red dress

and be
the one who
takes my breath
away

but i wanted
someone
that would look good
by a stream

with freckles like
sparks
to stain
the ashy sky.

Cease

With feathered quill
of moonlit verse
i’ll betray you
again
as i rewrite
your sunrise.

you cease.

my pen strokes
inhale your breath
osculate you invisible,
my ink
devours you.