So I run,
Deeper into these woods.
Through thickets with thorns,
Too focused to turn east or west,
As I chase a myth long ways north.
I will never be whole with this hole
That I've knowingly burned through my soul.
I should have stayed on the path
Should have stayed silent,
Should have slowed my pace,
Maybe stayed home
Now I've stumbled down and earth fills my mouth and hands.
The longer I rest here
The harder I find it to leave.
Maybe I will join this floor of soil and roots and leaves
And remain here as a silent part of this old forest.
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