Look at how our young bodies jolt and move.

I used to hang out of second story motel windows, letting the smoke glide out of my lungs and watching my fingers yellow like leaves on a tree in autumn. But this is where I finally, truly learn that all that glitters isn't what we were meant to be born of. We cling to each other's necks and hips and cry endlessly about how we don't want to care anymore. We grew up thinking we would all be beautiful but the truth is, we all feel like shit and everyone else looks like gold.

We are running from our mothers and fathers.

I know this because I am running from my mother, and my mother ran from her mother before me. We are running because we see our futures in their sad eyes and we don't want that future, no! So we pop those pills and snort and smoke and dance like animals in underground caves.

But what happens when we are older? Love bites will fade and that future will become our present.

And then our children will run from us too.

And then everyone is running, running, running away; but what happens if our legs break?