Rough Ground

Gravel crushed beneath my heel,

a sound I hadn’t known in days.

The cold wind tugged at my shirt,

tugged until I could feel my skin.

Each step broke a quiet spell,

a creak in joints like old floorboards.

I ran, slow, too fast, and stopped—

the rhythm steady, bruised but mine.

Breath sharp, lungs stretched to edge,

The pavement rough against my soul,

for the first time I belonged to this

—this body breaking out of its hole.