Throughport

I see you coming.
Your footsteps follow me
like leaves caught in a breeze
from a town away.
I'm not running away. I'm not trying to escape.
I'm just moving along in an attempt to get around.

A handshake and a smile
catches me off-guard.
I was expecting a fight and looking for a denial.
There was nothing else to see
so I tried to seek redemption
through your attention.
Too caught up in not being cast aside;
I searched for you,
only to find the way out wasn't there.
Then and only then did I
try to be on your side.

Where is it that my anger best serves me?
I always find the answers to the questions of me
properly
when they're never asked.
And when I need to play nice
I can't help but shout
and fail to keep my hands to myself.
I was a bad child. I was a neglected seed.
The cowlick in the family portrait.
The reason there's a need for justice.
I didn't mean to take it out on you.
This is not the time nor the place.

I see you coming
in the distance.
Your shadow looms large, giving me room to run,
but it traps me like a mask of guilt
encapsuling my skull and cloaking my neck.
Try as I may,
I'm not going anywhere.
I'm not running away.
I'm just trying to get around.