ah, yes, here it is. from -- Tuesday, June 26, 2001

on being destructive

I ran to get you off my mind. To release this feeling – these resentments
that stain my lips like cheap red wine. Like hot fingertips on my skin. To
pound you out of the soles of my feet into the unforgiving sidewalk.

I ran until my legs and arms were numb. Until thousands of tiny pins
pulled my flesh apart. Until my lungs exploded into flames – then ashes –
then smoke. Until the sun seared my shoulders and forehead into shades of
purple never known. Until my ears rang like ancient drums.

I ran until my body was covered in sweat the scent of black tea. Until my
heart beat so hard that the cut on my arm opened and blood ran down into
my fingers. Until strands of my hair fell loose from their braid and beat
against my face.

i ran until I disappeared

until i collapsed onto my knees into the parking strip – to vomit air and
bitterness and memory until i wasn’t embarrassed that the passing cars
could see until i had taunted my body – until i knew it understood the
word

and I didn’t want to stop
couldn’t stop
knew I had to press on

you must go on
you have to go on

I kept running
away from
to
against
instead of
until
there were
no words
left