2 years

I've been back for two years and I can feel the strain already.
A two years cycle.
I am running forward.
From what? I don't dare looking over my shoulder.
A two years cycle.

My joints are rusting,
my feet are sinking and I fear I'm going to suffocate.
The world is closing up, trapping me.

I can feel the restlessness grow.
The need for more,
for adventure, for novelty, for adrenaline.

I've never know how to settle down.
Not for long anyway.
It never works.

I feel the wind in my hair.
The air in my lungs.
I need to run. I need to flee.