You’re running from something,
I don’t know what it is.
But you’re going your fastest,
Hiding in the sneakiest ways you can.

We go in different directions; I can’t figure it out.
Do I follow you,
Or block your path so you stop?
Am I even supposed to help?

Maybe what I’m trying to say is,
Who am I to help?
We’re both so independent,
You don’t need me, I should leave.

Leave you alone,
After all, that’s what we’ve always been.
But is that bad?
Am I supposed to sit and watch or be there?

See, I still don’t know what I’m trying to say,
Or if I’m trying to say anything at all.
You know, maybe I’m running too,
Because how do you help when you secretly need it too?

I, being who I am,
Think I know everything.
I can do anything, people can depend on me.
I am always better: the best.

Any doubt or disbelief,
I steer clear of; the uncertain I avoid.
Yet black and white answers have never been my thing,
The gray in the middle is where I prefer being.

But what I’m trying to say,
Or at least what I think I’m trying to say,
Is that though “I am this great being”,
I too run from something I don’t know.

Look, what I’m trying to say now,
Is different from at the beginning of this poem.
What I’m trying to say is: I don’t know.
“I don’t know” is what I’m running from.

What I’m trying to say is I don’t know.
No one knows.
And that’s what you, I, can’t help running from.
That’s what I’m trying to say.