I ’ m Running Away By Ella Barfoot
My brain is mottled with bluebottles that were posited into its grey streams . My brain is bugged with a royal blue wire that fires white light into my eyes , government tag because I ’ m a threat with my melon chest . My feet , brittle , flat and long , sprint on wet concrete ; they make a hard wet chant , like slapped sticklebacks , singing of no man ’ s land . My skirt is hoicked to expose thin legs , wet vile my woman ’ s legs , unshaven vile running away , running nowhere wild running to the other side of the horizon – sea for miles and miles .