chasing raze he's told me i remember more of his life than he does, but this is a memory that's his when it should be mine: a girl i've just met is chasing me through central park. she has long brown hair and a feral smile. she wants to kiss me. i don't know why. i don't even know what a kiss is. i work to keep a safe distance between us. my father leans on all of his great strength to save the day when her foot gets caught beneath a fallen tree branch. "it's not a good idea to chase someone who doesn't know you," he tells her, and her face changes. to think there was a time i didn't want another person's lips on mine. and now i want to run again. so far and fast that no one will ever catch me. i won't stop until all the breath has left my body and these pistons i call bones are dust. 231224 what's it to you? who go blather from