She runs with ghosts and the patience of others
Through fields of regret where the grass cuts her legs
Past razors of guilt, of shrugged off compassion
She leaves muddy trails of blood, tears and sweat.
She holds no secrets, just stories in footprints
The ground when it echoes, beats close to her heart
Salt stings her face as sea spray washes over
A raw, angry wind has tangled her hair.
The taste of adventure will drag her under
She dives straight in with no thought of censure

All Rights Reserved – Alicia Fitton 2017

If you liked Reckless read Waiting