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Escape
November 7, 2010
Longing,
to catch the setting sun.
Fighting,
to be back on the run.
Forgetting,
why I started to cry.
No longer,
am I asking why.
That secret high you get
just from being set free.
The adrenaline that pumps your blood,
just out of curiosity.
Tasting,
the burn of freedom.
Manipulating,
I have the world wrapped around my thumb.
Breathing,
once again,
but still choking
on Escape's dose of heroine.
Angels' breathy tones,
tell me to embrace it.
Whispering to myself,
"I made it."
© Keyavash R, New City, NY
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