there's a bruise in the shape of a handprint on my right forearm, i'm thinking about what it would feel like to run away. my thoughts are switching trains quickly and i'm remembering this winter when i got real drunk and ran through the woods in northern maine crying with an empty liquor bottle, hit myself over the head with it and passed out with snow falling. when i woke up i shook the snow from my hair like a thousand stars in the moonlight. i remember being so fucked about death, wanting to laugh about it so badly. speeding on the ice after having taken eight or so tylenol pm, the windshield wipers going so fast it blurred my vision. i wanted someone to catch me, help me, but no one did so i went back to my dorm room and fell asleep for a few days.