Run Lola Run

Charlie the Poet

No matter how hard I try,
I know I cannot escape
the past.
Here, of all places,
Memories rush through me
as I run from the pain,
Unsure as to what should
or should not
have been.
What were once dreams
tear off their masks,
Revealing the disfigured faces
of nightmares beneath,

Haunting me,
Torturing me
with the salted rain
that has fallen.

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