I run. I seek me as I push up the mountain. I seek me as I rush down the slippery slopes. Coated in mud. Balancing on frozen paths. Listening to the snow underneath sing. I run. I seek me. Inside me. As my lungs burn I feel myself more and more. Getting closer to the core. I see the peak in the distance. Push myself more. My muscles burn. Laboring past the comfkrt zone. Yet I grow stronger. I am above pain. So close now. I run. To live.
I run
Published by madmagpie
Stream of happymess 
That’s a beautiful piece my friend. So much in such a small space. I feel your words, and the coating you’ve bathed them in.
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Thank you, dear friend. It’s been a battle and the war still rages… but I am pushing forward…
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Forward is one of the few places to go, backwards though not a selection is sometimes where we end up, but forwards is always our desired destination, and we will always find our way there.
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True. Very true. While I am in the stage of processing I many times fall backwards a bit. To integrate. To conquer. Then move on…
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