A Runner’s High

A memory is burning
And I allow it to become ash.
The last vestiges of you,
Whatever tethers you represented,
Now being blown away into the dark,
Into the corners of the unknown.
My ball and chain unclasped itself from my ankle.
I ran for what felt like the first time.
The winter air, bony and dry,
Seared my skin but as I continued to run,
The warmth came
And so I learned,
I would be okay after all.

-k.r.r.