I am neither turtle nor hare

My arms tighten too much like a knot would

To grasp the hand of a faceless Love

Lost and restless feet that know no home

Treading with barren toes in dust, a cracked heel tracing bloody footsteps

The ancient turtle will always outcrawl my wandering soul

Yet again we meet - “today it shall be me,” yet again I say

My scars are stitched by a hundred good intentions.