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sometimes I decide to run rather than walk

As a child, I flew down the concrete pavement outside of the daycare
where the woman behind the door did drugs and her husband beat
out her humanity. My trainers would patter down the way,
lights flashed from their souls, screaming MOVE
GET OUT OF MY WAY while I fled from my seven
year old demons.
Sometimes I would trip, the pavement would scratch me up, my skin
would flake off and I would bleed strawberry coloured blood. Mesmerized me,
that’s what that colour did; every day after that, I stole red coloured chalk
and coloured the cements crimson.
An obsession, it remained with me, it stole my mind away from
me, and began to force my body to pump antiseptic
red from below my skin with each nick
and tear and my hands to come up and do the sidewalk’s
job for free.



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