RUN

I run,
Forrest Gump style,
No reason, no rhyme,
Just rhythm;
Thump-thump, thump-thump.
Going away, running away;
Running from the inescapable,
The weakness in me that I despise;
My promiscuity
(I am a slut),
My sins
(God knows I am a sinner),
Just running,
A pathetic sight,
My fat ass running from the essence of
Me-ness.
But when I stop (oh shit),
I'm still there,
Useless in all my glutonized glory.
Damn...
I hate when that happens.



Copyright © 2002 by Elizabeth Ann Lopez


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