Running, crying, I can do it no longer. I want to be finished. You are becoming a reoccurring problem --sorry, I mean companion. Wherever I go, why must you follow? Whenever I hide from you, why do you find me? We were friends long ago but now you no longer bring me comfort or joy. I am too busy running from you too in any way associated with any good. I missed you. Truly. But also I cannot wait to continue missing you. You are someone I would much rather miss.
YOU ARE READING
(BASKET CASE)
Poetry"One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple." -Jack Kerouac
