I run

I run,
For a living.
At the pace of the heart beats of those singing psalms with open arms and whose naked eyes release tears that erase the ink notes of their lives.
Through vast fields filled with mines and sounds of bomb blasting echoes in my soul playing in the background.
In a race filled with glittering options with piercing voices that leave your mind speechless and make it difficult to walk around blindfolded.

I run,
Towards the invisible finish line that resembles the frown lines on the faces of people who disapprove of my life.
People who think they can map your path out with the paint leftover on their ears that stay laying with walls hoping to hear the latest word on the streets.
I find it impossible to imagine that I wake up everyday to my "Mirror mirror on the wall" only to see a face and walk away convinced I'd seen myself.
Because it seems fair to them to think that I've metamorphed from little drizzles on a withering autumn day to snowflakes on a beautiful summer morning.

I run,
Through a maze built by ravenous souls in lust for unsent love letters handwritten in cursive because we would rather satisfy our flesh first.
I remember how your hands directed elongated symphonies as your fingers travelled to and fro my naked body in search of a ravishing spot to hide.
And the unspoken words you sang through the endless seas of blue in your eyes remain as permanent tattoos in my dislocated mind.
And that goodbye kiss that poisoned my insides led to my eternal numbness because I've been inflicted by your kind ever since like the vibrations of sounding raindrops in my thighs call to them.

I run,
Away from maximum security prisons where the pain I have spelt out in dairies are locked away. But they escape from my tongue while my spirit tries to converse with my Maker's causing me to run away ashamed. And then my heart fills with exclamation marks screaming STOP!
I need. this pain. to stop.
Binding my future in shackles, causing my skin to bleed as it cries for freedom.
I need it to STOP using walls the height of Mt. Kilimanjaro to block away the peace that should come from Him, because they are only playing hard to get.
To STOP doing cartwheels in my eyes making my tears envious so they fall down my face as they cry.

I run,
Through hallways of past mistakes and a series of unfortunate circumstances, waving my hands frantically in an attempt to signal the author, shouting
"Hey, you can stop writing this now"
Because the darkness became too dark for me and I care not for the delicate intricacies that go down in the mind of one about to take that final jump.
And I've grown impatient waiting to see the words "Happily Ever After" on the following page
Because all I see is white lie after white lie marking the roads that lead to destruction because my life has long been affected by the black deaths of hope and hands brought together in Holy matrimony while unholy lips attempted to kiss heaven.

See

I run,
Because all I see are the torn pages of a diary once kept up to date, slit flesh from nights I swore my voice had been muted because the fervent prayers I said through parted lips did not cause the heavens to open up and rain volumes of blessings, and a broken heart someone is yet to fix.
I run through tunnels of dreams and lose my breath because the air surrounding me is filled with the words I've failed to embrace as weapons in this battle before death.
Words when called together in assembly will read:
"The race is not to the swift nor is this battle for the strong"

- Mercedes