Everytime I think of nothing something bad never happens.
Your eyes don't look right at me, skimming over every fine detail.
I haven't worn this lace dress in some time.
And when it slides over my skin I feel the need to run.
In bare feet across acres of woodland.
Birds twittering corrupt sentences of absolute hate.
My eyes have lost their color, black infects them.
The sweat beads across my forehead underneath this graying hair.
Heaving dry breaths, push and pull at my chest.
Now I am galloping.
Stop. There is a sudden stop.
Planting feet into the ground like roots twisting under dirt and grime.
Arms lay still and the fabric of this dress lies against my burning skin.
I have ran so far from Her.
That now I can not even remember Her name.
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