Running

I wrote this poem many many years ago, during a difficult time in my life. I want to post it because I still find it beautiful.

It's been a while since I've felt this way.

The driving urge to run away.

But still I stay.

Am I a coward for staying here?

For acting brave and hiding my fear?

I swallow my pride and fight away tears.

But I can't block the voices I hear.

They twist and tear me this way and that.

They tell me to leave, but they hold me back.

I just need to know which answer is right.

Which battles are worth my efforts to fight.

It seems so futile as if there's no relief.

I keep it inside then find myself with grief.

When I keep in my feelings there's only one way

For me to feel like it'll all be okay.

And that's to separate myself from the pain.

I'm afraid that's the one thing to help keep me sane.

So will I spend my life leaving behind

The loves that I've built only to find

A gaping hole of emptiness?

In my own distress

Will I end up with the worst pain of all?

After all my efforts to stay okay?

Loneliness?