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The Runner

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A hare-lipped war rages deep within,
Boiling, tearing, screaming to be released,
Waiting for vocal vibrations,
To bring it to life – surface from hiding,
Masked by guilt,
Betrayed by creed,
By class,
Scream it to a sleepless night,
Rewind the words – reverse your breath,
Forget the words were ever spoken,
Push him away – the reminder,
Smother him until he suffocates,
Guilt becomes a working, feeding organ,
Pumping and coursing through your veins,
Write it to erase it,
Scribble it, copy it, paste it, delete it,
Scribble it, copy it, paste it, delete it,
So many times, the words are rehearsed,
Believe the lie,
White it out of your memory,
It never existed,
Until a ghost from the past,
Returns from the grave,
Reopening wounds – the lie bleeds from you,
They know the truth,
Swallow it until you choke and can no longer hold it down,
Watch as it claws its way free,
And watch as it takes human form –
A child,
Named after a childhood hero,
Saved from Hell,
Becomes the redemption so vehemently sought,
The Runner may be gone,
But you take his place,
Become the Runner,
Let the kite’s string,
Slice new wounds – new scars,
A young life is yet to be saved,
As the blood runs and all guilt is washed away,
A friendship, a kinship, is born again.





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