A little poem - Running

Running

My lips are chapped,
cold air slaps me in the face and
pushes its way into my lungs.
I am smiling.
Right now, I am with her.
Our hands interlinked,
we pull each other forward
lifting the other upwards.
No idea where we want to be.
We run and keep running
and keep running.
I didn't realise we were both running
in different directions,
and that the cord that ran
between us, would break.
Her hair blew behind her
as she ran, elegant
and smooth as silk ribbon
slipping through my hands. Her skin,
caramel coffee and whipped cream.
I don't run anymore.


A poem I used in my first year portfolio, that I've edited a little since. It began when I wrote a few lines for in the notes of my phone one evening after running through Uttoxeter one night with Issy to the soon-closing ASDA. Eventually I picked it up again and it became something completely different. I don't really write poetry. I never get the rhythm right, but this one is special mostly because it feels like it marks the start of university and how much I've grown and found my style and voice.

With love,

Ellen Victoria x