I Hope You Run Away
Put on your running shoes
cowboy boots
sandals that haven’t walked the beach since July–and go
I don’t have time, I’ll just go barefoot
The emptiness in my stomach is too strong
This used to be your home
Warm tomato basil soup on the winter solstice,
but now it’s been too long
old friends are strangers that walk past
the sun scoffs in unfamiliar light.
I want to go home
I just want to go home
But you don’t know where home is.
So you might as well start running now
and one day, you’ll make it
somewhere warm and kind
til’ it changes again
and you’ll have to start running again
Right from where you started.
That night we sat in the restaurant–I laughed until my stomach tied. Alongside the dark highway, the lights on the way led my car through familiar roads. The drive was fast.
I want to try and leave a day earlier, but I don’t know if I’ll be able to
My eyes stayed straight on the horizon. So did his. But we sang with George Strait.
If you’re thinking, you want a stranger, I’ll soon be there
In the parking lot of his apartment, we allowed silence to fill the space. Several minutes walked by. He turned to me, opened the passenger side door and stepping out said,
I hope you run away.
