Escape

Breaking through the fog, feet pad the dirt underneath
dodging roots, leaping over fallen logs, flying,
not noticing even the patches of sand where my foot
sinks into the ground, nor caring as the river rapids
rush by side by side. I do not race the river.

It starts at a slow pace, a quiet jog, but then kicking
in, a burst of need to get away from what's behind.
I used to walk this path with you. We had kissed
while walking along the riverbank. But now, I am queen.
The newly muscled legs taking the slopes and ditches
in stride, the freedom contagious. I never thought
I'd be able to face this place again. But it has become

mine. I have left behind the us, hesitant and worried,
and tried to replace it with the power rippling
under crafting abs, the forming biceps, quads of steel.
I don't yet know the power of this new me, this new self
that is able to run through the branches, duck under trees.
But I want to try. I want to know me.