ambiguous poetry. and other things i hate.

Run.  Or stay.  It’s the same, either way.

My
circle is yours is mine is ours. My feet ran into you, running from me,
chasing me, away from us.  Chasing me, chasing us, from ourselves.

our problem is that you think I mean you
when I mean me and I really know nothing at all.  But you’re too
scared.  Or maybe it was me.

Run.  Or stay.  It’s the same, either way.

My circle….alone.