Often I forget the reason
I am running

The reason I can never look
anyone in the face
for fear I see a tatter of dissatisfaction
The slightest narrowing eyes
or pursed lips

When truth leaks out of another’s mouth
instead of that voice in the back of my head
my mounds of clutter become
all the more real
and that much harder
to put away

I acknowledge that I fear many things
failure sitting at the top

I keep my failure close
like a loaded pistol
magazines full of apprehension
eager to remind me
of everything wrong with the world

With me

I don’t need to be reminded

I already know
the reason my hands shake
in my pockets like spare change
why my mind rides the wind
like dying autumn leaves
scattering to get away from the noise

The reason I run
until I’m sputtering up blood and
heaving at the pavement
is to try to forget that fact that fear
is running circles around me