On occasion, I think of the 2 years and 6 months before the running stopped
And I find myself frozen in place
Willing my muscles to not take the empathetic action
Quietly chanting to myself
don't look back don't look back don't look back
I don't need to see the carnage to know it's there
My body is aware of the destruction that was built on top of me
And my spirit knows that it didn't have to come to be.
Maybe if my tongue had learnt to roll that specific way a few years earlier
Maybe if I wasn't so ashamed of my own pain
Maybe if *Raises eyebrows. Leans forward. Waiting pause* "Is that all?"
wasn't echoing through my mind at every waking hour
Maybe if I hadn't run for so long...
I will not lay claim to the destruction
I, myself, am a part of the rubble.
I will, however, take ownership of the rest
The maybes are mine to bear.