Running

Hit after hit on the pavement.
Like a reckoning.
Pounding…
Merciless…
In her skull.
On the ground.
Reverberations of impact in every direction.
Trying to escape herself.
To outrun all that hurts.
All the parts…
Tasting the pain
Like blood on her tongue.
Metallic.
Like a gun.
Hatred, so pure and deep
She’d started to think of it as home.
The only walls she’d known.
(She’d known only walls…)
Her only shelter,
Loathing,
Bringing her to her knees.
And…a slowing…
“Go gently,”
She heard the wind whisper.
“The walls of your temple are a gateway.
The beating of your heart, an invitation.”