Flee

Down a street,
Worn and winding,
I run.
Feet pounding against the ground,
Not noticing what I pass,
Long trousers rolled up,
I don’t want to trip over,
Don’t want to be slowed.
Trainers mucky,
But I haven’t run through mud,
Or at least I don’t think I have.
My breaths rasping,
My chest burning,
But I run through the pain.
I won’t stop,
Can’t stop,
I have to keep going.
I’ve got all that I need,
Swinging in a bag with me,
Containing my life memories.
I know if I look back,
All I will see,
Is no one chasing after me.
So I wonder as I run,
For some reason unable to stop,
What am I running from?