After 3 miles
My legs give in to the burn
and settle on suffering
while looking at mountains
I’ll never get to see.
In my ears electronic beats
and cryptic lyrics go hard
doesn’t matter what the man says
only that the beat moves me
forward and forward
on this fake road.
After 3 miles I feel my heart
fall into rhythm, the sweat
beading on my arms and neck.
I’m running away from life,
running away from work,
from my child’s inability
to see her worth, from diabetes,
from high blood pressure,
from menopause, from aging.
After 3 miles
I don’t much care
about anything.
Aleathia Drehmer 2025
Aleathia Drehmer 