All The Way Gone / by M. Dionne Ward

I've hustled my way down and around, kicking dirt across weathered roads, catching a glimpse of what life would look like if I really had a hold. I think I'm hurrying, how do I get there when the getting there just got up and burnt out? I wanna rush, I wanna go forth and leap across mountain ranges and feel the air whistling and rattling about me. Speed, man. Let's go.

Let's take it to the fullest extreme, all-out tornado trippin', I'm a whirlwind pyramid or something close to its functionality. I just wanna wake up on the go, my feet already pointed in the direction I need to travel. I wanna be part of the solution to make the world unravel...to cave it in, to break it and watch it rattle. I wanna be the KA-BOOM in your gasp. The shock in your awe. The chatter in your teeth.

Just wanna be. I know Freedom ain't what it used to be. It's a shadow of its own shadow split amongst their shadows. An after image that is beginning to fade. Freedom seemed like it was there one day, then gone, never said "good bye", "I'll see you" or "go to hell". Wonder if Freedom knew me? The same me that's jetting like a plane to see it torn up and done again, built up and spun and spun and then kicked to smithereens like a wooden board before Bruce Lee's foot.

Am I running to escape? Maybe so. But it's too late. I've already been caught and manhandled and bruised and bludgeoned. I got right back up and begged for some more. Look at me: I'm built for this, mom. I'm built for this. Look at what's left of your prodigal son. The son that keeps running til he can no longer run. A son that keep going till he was all the way gone. All the way gone, all the way to none.