by Erin Danielson
Guilt rolled down and dripped from her elbow
Like the pasty sunscreen tinted sweat that was beaded a crossed her upper lip
She had been running for over an hour trying
to pound the tingling sensation out of her defeated limbs.
With each exhale, thrusting the bitter taste of her shame
Away, away, away.
Nothing could remove or reverse the steps she had taken
which glared up at her like footprints in the bleached sand,
placed too high to ever be reached by the
cool waves of a calm conscious.
Her blistering feet were rubbed raw by the continuous
bouncing and scrapping of her soles across the grainy pavement.
painful, but necessary for the eventual healing.
It was much too exposed, she was exposed
Afraid of sharing the weight she pushed on,
throwing the last of the truth behind her
lying on the burning pathway hidden in the
Illusion of a heat wave on an unusually hot September afternoon.
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