Sometimes it takes decades to untangle
old emotions trapped within the body,
mother of God, why did I start running
ever since the bookstore laid me off work,
thinking I had to do something worthwhile,
in a flash, I got better at the art,
mentally, I got stronger and the pain
even diminished with my depression,
sometimes it takes years to face the mirror,
in an instant, a ball rolls down the stairs,
to watch the yarn unravel as it falls,
trapped in the muscle fibers and organs
are memories too painful to deal with,
killing the brain of its functions, sent down
entering nerve signals, engaging cells,
sometimes the pain in my muscles remains
dark, too dark to remember, to wring out,
even with massage therapy, trauma
cools over time, settles in, hides, silent
as a cat over a mouse hole, waiting,
deadly, its grip firm as my dad's handshake,
ever since he died, our past woke me up,
sometimes memories never go away,
trauma, pain, memory, all entangled,
only so much can the body endure,
unravel the yarn rolling down the stairs,
nothing but two kittens playing around,
trouble is, I don't remember good times
anymore, the pain builds up in layers,
nothing makes sense but endlessly running,
given the option, I would take the dream,
living as a runner, endorphins flow,
endorsements matter not to a poet.
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