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Why I Ran

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Why I ran from my mother
Because sometimes it scares me how much we have in common
           Sometimes she scares me
Because my feet wanted to feel freedom
            I didn’t want her to watch me cry
                     To see the pain she caused
Because she wouldn’t realize
What she did even if she did see me
The real me…. The real scars


Why I ran from my father’s grave
I was scared I would
      fall in
I was scared
         I was supposed to go with him
Because sometimes I wish it was me instead of him
Because I would have rather my sister knew him
       Then having to live my life without her
I was scared I would make his same mistake

 

Why I ran from the hospital
        Because why not?
Because I’d rather die than hear someone say
       “What was it this time?”
Like one specific thing made me want to die
Like I wasn’t strong and didn’t fight so hard for a year and a half
But that doesn’t mean a thing


Why I ran from him
Because I didn’t want to give him the chance to explain
            To make me want to stay again
Because I was tired
           Tired of the fighting and the lying
Tired of trying to literally kill each other


Why I ran from the mirror
Because I didn’t like the skeleton I became
Feeling
      Down
           My
             Ribs
Being able to count each and every one
And even though you can’t see the scars
If you run your fingers over the spots
        You’ll feel the raised skin


Why I ran
             Because I didn’t want to fight
Because pain was overrated
              Because I wanted to be free
Because once I started running…..
                                                 I couldn’t stop




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