Run

I need to run
like hell
but i can't move
i don't want to move

sixth sense says go,
yet i want to stay
like soft snow on a January morning
before the climate climaxed

run,
fast
 avoid tripping hazards,
the wind won't push me even though it flows so vigorously
around my body

wrapping me like the embrace of a troubled lover
run
 like hell
they all say, my inside voices say,
my friends and mother say,

yet i stick it out another day,
I make sticks out of trees
  and boil their leaves to make strong tea
just to get what I don't need

only want,
Passersby throw bottles at this thing
    i don't know why they want me to run

yes i do, i am not meant for you
 attention besets on all but good
intentions flawed on the other side

run like hell they say
I can't....