Category Archives: grown-ups

Run

Run

By Chris Cooper, author and poet, New Jersey.

The scariest thing about life is that there is no finish line,
so you never really know where or how far you have to go.
Living out each day, assessing the past and present while eyeing the future,
we choose directions based on impulse and prudence, decisions that guide the run.

And it starts out like a sprint with fast-twitch ambition and energized strides,
until fatigue sets in, forcing a recalculation,
an adjustment to the race; a realization that it’s actually a marathon,
requiring both stamina and endurance, a steadier pace.

And subconsciously, we’re convinced tomorrow is expected,
assuming there’s always another day, more time to catch up.
But you never really know if there’s a lifetime ahead,
another mile to go, or if you’re experiencing your last conscious breaths,
and maybe that’s the beauty of it all.

—Chris Cooper is the author of the 2024 debut novel Crazy by Conscious from Anxiety Press. He writes, “I created this poem to convey different aspects of the human condition with varying linguistic elements. I hope to one day be content without feeling the existential need to constantly create.”

Unfinished Exit

Unfinished Exit

I keep thinking
about the time in high school
when you drew
me
a map of the city,
I still have it somewhere.
It was so easy
to get lost
in a place where all the trees
look the same.
And now
every time I see
a missing person’s poster
stapled to a pole,
all I can think is
that could have been me.
Missing,
disappeared.

But there are no
posters for people
who just never came back
from vacation, from college,
from life.
You haven’t killed yourself
because you’d have to commit to a
single exit.
What you wouldn’t give to be your cousin Catherine,
who you watched
twice in one weekend get strangled nude
in a bathtub onstage
by the actor who once
filled your mouth with quarters at
your mother’s funeral.
The curtains closed and opened again.
We applauded until
our hands were sore.

But you couldn’t shake the image of
her lifeless body,
the way she hung there like a
marionette with cut strings.
And now every time you try to write a poem,
it feels like a
eulogy.
A desperate attempt to
capture something that’s already
gone.
But maybe that’s why we keep writing,
keep searching for
the right words,
because in this world where everything is
temporary,
poetry is our only chance at
immortality.

So even though you haven’t
found the perfect ending yet,
you keep writing.
For Catherine, for yourself, for all the lost
souls
who never got their own
missing person’s poster.
Because as long as there are words on a page,
there is still hope for an unfinished exit
to find its proper
ending.

About the Poet:
Claudia Wysocky is a Polish poet based in New York, celebrated for her evocative creations that capture life’s essence through emotional depth and rich imagery. With over five years of experience in fiction writing, her poetry has appeared in various local newspapers and literary magazines. Wysocky believes in the transformative power of art and views writing as a vital force that inspires her daily. Her works blend personal reflections with universal themes, making them relatable to a broad audience. Actively engaging with her community on social media, she fosters a shared passion for poetry and creative expression.