“Who are you running from? You can’t run all your life,” he stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

I don’t know who I’m running from. 

All I know is, I can run pretty far.

I can run to the hills, to the sea, to salty kisses on a winter’s day, to a silent day spent under the cherry blossoms.

I can run deep into my imagination, where no time, tide, or being can affect me.

I can run and leap into a cool sea of thought, diving to the depths, again and again, not having to consider rules or limitations.

I can run to the depths of my mind, but I can’t run from my shadow.

I can’t run from myself.


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