We were always
so good at running,
trading morning glories
for lavender nights,
whiskey sunsets
for a tequila sunrise
in a misguided attempt
to save others from us
We made a new home
out of back seats
and bar stools
and blue highways,
always one breath away
from being convinced
that, maybe, we could stay

But, we were never meant
for one place,
our hearts too much
like wild horses,
and running
was in our veins

Breath of Words© 5/6/17

photo by Sammy Frazier