running in the cold is otherworldly. my cheeks have gone numb and i can no longer feel my legs the only thing that matters is my feet taking me speeding through empty sidewalks
as flashing lights trail behind me.
i didn't care about the vandalism about writing phallic things on the side of a brick wall the entire time i was crossing my fingers that we’d have to run.
so here i am now with ice in my lungs and needles in the soles of my shoes. losing myself to the feeling of feeling nothing at all.
crashing into someone was like taking a wrecking ball to my playing card palace of a mind. fragile ignorance collapsed on the ground.
i’m cursing myself out or i’m cursing the pavement out i can’t really seem to decide.
there’s a pair of black nike running shoes stood right before me they’re the cheap kind thin and boring.
the owner of the shoes is spouting apologies saying ‘sorry i didn't see you’ with some posh european accent.
i try to duck my head down when i get up but my hood isn’t up anymore and the man can obviously see my hair.
black as day which doesn’t make sense and i’m not claiming to.
‘you alright?’ he’s asking.
by then i’ve already taken off running police car not far behind.