walking.

aimless, in my bedsheet ghost disguise,

i forgot to cut holes for my eyes,

but that’s okay, i know these one-car-wide roads

like i know my own mind, even when all i see is white;

no protection for my

legs, my barefoot toes burnt on the pavement, wearing down,

i don't swing my arms like a human,

have to pull off this ruse, even when the chafing

of my thighs hurts even worse, i can only walk today;

a car hasn’t come by

in thirty minutes, i’m starting to question where i’m headed, if it's even halloween,

if i'm a friendless, teenage trick-or-treater

or just a lonely kid who ran away from home in a

desperate final attempt to be forgotten;

every step grinds my

bones against each other, tightening muscles,

keep going, have to get anywhere other than this,

my head cycling through the same two sentences, tiring

me out, eyelids falling so low, pulling on my crooked hairline,

muscle memory moves

my feet when i fall asleep under the sheet, subconsciously convinced

it’s still on my bed at home, instead of tempting gnats with the scent of my sweat,

breathing slows as though i’m not all alone outside at night,

not drifting further from myself and my life.