I’ve tried so many time to escape my problems.

Running,

And running…

Until I hear the rustling I left behind once again—

The movement that trapped me.

Through the woods, I try to escape, but as the breeeze grows stronger then ever,

I remember the comfort I found in everything I’m running from.

Maybe the mud can’t hurt me, nor the rain or the little wooden house…. I turn around as I always do.

Yes, “little one”, run back to the icicles that leave your heart frozen, longing for someone to find you.