The Runner - a poem on Loving Yourself

This poem was also written on the 12th April 2014 on the subject of "Loving yourself"

The Runner

 

All my life I’ve been running.

Running from the mirror,

Running from reflection

Held up by hands of friends,

By media boards

And hooks of introspection.

 

I run from the monster.

I run from the beast

That pulls itself like a fish from a silver lake.

Growing legs,

Growing claws,

Growing,

Evolving,

Dragging,

Crawling,

Leaping,

Sprawling and spreading dark dripping wings,

Woven from old skins,

Shed skins,

Each wearing my face,

The mask I placed

Before me for the world to see.

I run.

 

I run in fear and fright and terror.

The beast takes flight

And comes.

The tearing wind races me,

Catches me.

The sound of screams and cries,

Of spoken lies,

Of breathless sighs

Holds me fast,

Freezes my feet.

I am coming for myself.

The beast approaches.

I run.

 

I fall.

 

I fail.

 

When life returns I stand on shaky legs

That feel like someone elses.

I see the mirror before me.

I see the beast.

 

Shed faces scream in fear and pain

As they’re torn away.

Shredded wings fall

Like feathers,

Like petals.

I tear and pull.

I wrench and rip.

I strip the layers down,

Down,

Down.

Through tears and blood

I see myself,

Naked,

New born.

I run.

Slow and wobbly,

The first steps of a colt.

I stumble and trip

And stagger and slip

And find my pace.

My new legs fly

And this is why

I run.