The Boy Who

The day was young, the year was old.

My breath is slow and calm in the growing cold.

I have run away like so many times before.

I know deep in my heart, the center, the core.

I am not whole, I am torn apart.

All from this boy, who breaks me in two.

I laugh at his jokes because they make me smile.

All the while he’s running his mouth.

I’m quickly running away to towards the south.

I had this dream and he was in the scene.

He said what do you mean…?

I want to scream.