i just want to sleep.

if I could,
I would highlight the words “running away”
with my brake lights.
No bicycle is sufficient enough
for the height
of the roads I want to climb
and I rely upon these streets.
They do not tell me that I cannot
walk the blurs between safety and cowardice,
they do not tell me that “running away”
is a euphemism for “weak,”
or at least they do not fault me.
They spur me on because
they are frozen,
and despite all my best efforts,
I am not.
They understand me,
as much as any path can understand
someone bound to drive them backwards.