When I was really little I ran away from monsters and demons.
I was afraid of dying.
At the time I ran toward my closet,
the only door I could close in the house.
I dreamed about getting captured by one
because that’s what I thought about at night.
When I got a little older I ran away from life.
When I ran I expected that I could get away from it.
At the time I ran toward the convenience store
for a bottle of life-away.
When I ran I hoped for escape.
Today when I run I run away from my friends.
More than anything I wish I could run from myself.
Today when I run I run toward nothing.
More than anything I wish I could run toward experience.