Running from the past. Sprinting to the future.

I run and I run and I run. 

I don’t know which route to take. 

The wrong one, and I just might break.

I’m not okay, I realize. 

My vision blurs as tears fill my eyes. 

I run and I run and I run.

I run from the past.

All mistakes worse than the last.

You are my only hope.

I use the skills you taught me and I cope. 

I cope with the depression. 

And I cope with each agonizing therapy session.

 I sprint and I sprint and I sprint. 

The scars that are etched deep into my skin begin to fade. 

When I hear your kind words saying it’s going to be okay, I feel as if I am being saved.

I sprint and I sprint and I sprint.

And this time I am not running from something, but rather to someone.

I cross the finish line and realize that I have won.

And now I know, I will stay.

I am not leaving. 

I hear your kind words complimenting me on the amazing things that I’ve been achieving.

You care and you care and you care. 

All that matters to me is that you’ll be there