
Everyone is worried about me
when I take to the mountain alone.
But it is a sanctuary,
a private solitude.
My legs pumping. The sound of gravel crunching
beneath my shoes.
The wind in my hair. Salty sweat on my skin.
I am fearless.
I am powerful.
If I ran off the edge of the trail
I swear I could fly.
The mountain has its dangers
but no more than the world
that waits for me below.
At least in the mountain
I am free. Liberation
is hard to find in a concrete jungle.
The risk is a mugging
Losing my material possessions.
The risk of staying at home
Is losing my mind.
The scales are tipped.
So I run. Like I will never
run again.
I leave all my broken parts on the trail.
My heart aches; my insecurities; my ugliness
All strewn across the Table.
And then I breathe. Like I haven’t
breathed all day.
And then I climb in my car.
LANY at full volume.
And I am a better human for it.