Not Really Sure
I am not really sure what happened last night.
I woke this morning to find my middle finger sliced as if I had been in a bar fight.
Who was I fighting?
Or was I the one assaulting another?
The bottoms of my feet are indented with pebble marks and scratched as if sticks and branches were all along my chosen path.
Who was I running from?
Or was it I that was doing the chasing?
My feet are calloused and the skin is falling off in sheets.
Barefoot, my travels didn’t take me very far.
I woke confused in the same bed where the night before I attempted to rest my weary head.
Even when I believed my mind was finally giving me a break and falling into the land of not remembering.
My body again has betrayed me.
My legs must have been working hard to keep up, as every muscle aches.
My arms feel weakened as if crawling was the only means of transportation.
What was I after?
What did I desire so desperately?
Everything I did last night was for naught.
Every part of my body is paying the price for whatever happened, all while I thought I was sleeping.
Sleep now doesn’t seem to be a precious commodity when it comes time to face it tonight.
Almost dreaded, I may avoid it a bit longer.
My body can’t take much more of this.
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