Run.

Turn left! Turn left! Go straight!
Look back. His shadow precedes him. I can see it.
Don’t let it get to you.
Don’t let him get to you.

The alley beckons. I must decide.
Foe or ally? Run or hide?

I rush past windows. Disjointed reality-
My feet have brains of their own, my eyes
wander in the rooms I leave behind.
A child screams, don’t let it them get to you!

Jump over. Look, a river.
The other side always appears safer.

Water soothes. It is easy, being carried away.
Something is tugging. Baggage-
I must let it go. This and that, oh I liked that one.
I am lighter now and safe, but destitute? After all,
Won’t not having things that make me happy,
be a different kind of poverty?

Ashore. Breathe. Independence is heavy.
Or the water, maybe.

Ripples, I can see. They can see, too. War
Can be damaging when weapons are not physical. I see,
Judgment, disappointment, shame. Love?
Fight or flight? The child in the window looks, impassive.
Behind her, ever changing rooms.

The shadows bring with them a calm darkness.
After all, everyone needs the night to sleep. 

-Shree