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The Runaway

I feel my heart pounding at my ribs to escape my chest
The adrenaline rush that drowns everything else out
My thoughts are not on my bare feet cut by stone and glass
I cannot stop, I will not slow, I must run
The headlights behind me stop my breathing
Do they know? Can they tell?
Her voice on the phone guides me on my way
Don’t be afraid I’m coming for you
It is cold and I am wearing very little
My hair still wet from the shower chills shoulders
I cannot stop, I will not slow, I must run
Now I am in the car, the warm air hits my skin
I cannot speak, my lungs have been drained of oxygen
I do not know what will happen next but she is with me now
The phone rings and my heart stops
I cannot pick up, they cannot find me, I won’t go back
Time stands still in my mind, what has happened to me
A warm bed now, I nurse the wounds on my feet
Wiping away the blood, and dulling the pain
I try to sleep, to forget the risk I am taking
Four o’clock a knock on the door
My fear from the moment my feet hit the pavement
Two men at the foot of the stairs
Here to take me back “home”
The place that haunts my mind and plagues my heart
I beg them let me stay, my knuckles white, my heart broken
They take my wrists leading me to the car
Lying that they are here to help me
Stealing me from the ones who will help
The back seat is cold and hard, I have never been here
They tell me not to cause problems
My mother is waiting, my worst fear
They bring me in tear stricken and puffy eyed
Leaving me behind in the place I ran from hours ago
I will run again.
I will not stop, I cannot slow, I must run
Home is where the heart is, and my heart is not here




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Fiona. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jun. 13, 2010 at 12:47 pm:
I really like to story portayed in this poem! Keep up the good work!
 
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