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Run

by | Feb 15, 2022 | ACA And The Arts, ComLine

Shoving all my socks down deep inside the duffel. The pink one I borrowed from Sam.
Throwing open my dresser, where is my sweater? It may get cold there—somewhere.
Closing my bag, I look around my sunshine colored room, but all I see is darkness.
Sneaking quietly out the door, I glance back once, wishing things were different.
Wiping the tears spilling down my cheeks, falling to the mud. I must save myself.
Turning back once more to home, the only one I’ve known. It looks happy—from the outside.
Wishing things were different—that the drinking could somehow stop. It won’t.
Running fast and fearful to anywhere but there.

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