day one hundred eighty-four: euphoria.

high
on euphoric hormones
an
elevated heart rate
burning
muscles with
fire
from somewhere beyond
the
marrow of my bones

somewhere
inside a clock ticks
ticking-tocking
squeezing
life blood out
making
its rounds to the
farthest
reaches of my insides
this
is running
this
is pushing
this
is letting it all roll off
behind
your ever-moving
body

there it goes
wave goodbye
enjoy the natural
euphoric high

day one hundred eighty: [running]

[running]

out of things to say;

out of hours in a day;

a mile and a half;

on a treadmill three times a week;

forward into the future; dreams and plans in hand;

[running]

day one hundred-seventeen: maybe someday i'll stop running.

there might be a day

when i need to catch my breath

(much like to day

it's safe to bet)

that i'll need a second to stop and rest

there'll be a place where i must crash

and maybe a place to burn for a second or two

and there might be a day

that i'll stop running

and doing and being and seeing

long enough to pause and be

just silly little me

maybe someday i'll stop running

long enough to catch my breath...

but i don't see that day,

i'm doubting it'll ever get here

and sometimes i think thats good

others i feel like i'm outrunning time

either way, i think i'm looking for that day

the day i can be me.