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  • Writer's pictureBrett




One speaks to me as the crow flies

Familiar in the now

Grey areas do not speak her truth

Nor do they bring any comfort

For me it is a runner’s game

How far can I go

How far have I come

My shoes never seem to tire

Never leaving my feet

Intelligence dictates change to better oneself

Only from within can you find what you are without

My heart speaks to me of people, places long since gone

Not where I have been but what could be again

Hoping to remind that hope holds great power

To forgive

I once spoke of scars keeping my heart wounded in it’s past

Not willing to face the truth of the day

Today, one of those days where the truth is not known to me

Though others seem to know where it lies

I continue it seems to lie to myself

About even the things I have spoken

Not because I know not the truth, but because I run

Seemingly taught again and again - the truth only brings pain

These lies I tell to me each day to keep the fiction real

Because the lies become truth once they are spoken


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