200 Laps

Read the the Asylum Series first:

1, 2,

Dear Lover,

I’m back in the asylum, dearest. I’m in the asylum, dearest. They sent me back here, you know. Back here. The space was all too much, perhaps. I mean, of course, I’m not crazy. I’m chill, you know. But the space, perhaps, was just a bit too much. So I’m writing just to say hi! I ran 5 miles this morning around the grounds— 200 laps, one foot in front of the other. You never realize how short a path is until you’ve run down it 200 times. It’s funny though.. each time I passed again the ironweaved fence, I thought, once again, that maybe the route would be new. Sometimes it was. Sometimes. my feet fell on new curves and bumps and roots and grooves… My eyes fell on new bushes and bark and light. Sometimes, though, they didn’t and all the blur was only breath again, a little bit harder maybe this time. Darling lover, I’m here again and the grooves and roots are the same I think perhaps. But I’m not tired of the monotony… if anything I like the floating, the lightness that makes the outside less important and the inside a little simpler.

Last time you wrote, you told me you don’t read my letters. That the ups and the downs might be too much of the inside, but I’m chill you know. I read your letters, you know. I read the letters of the letters, again, again, again. 200 times I’m sure. Maybe after 200 times I’ve gotten stuck on the landscape on the inside and forgotten your iron lattices are cold and smooth and real and frame all sorts of things depending on where you’re standing.

I’ll read your letters, you know. I’ll read them. I just don’t know when it’ll be 5 miles and I should stop, like a good whole number. I’m scared I’ll run the 243rd lap and still think that it’s the 166th. I’m scared I’ll run forever and never know when to stop. I won’t know, but I’m sure you will. I’m scared you’ll know. And even more scared you’ll tell me.



How beautiful you were tonight! How soft your fingers on my wrist, along my veins. How quickly you ran through my mind and out of my mouth and into my bed. Your eyes were so bright in my eyes tonight! What a pain it is to wake.

Still yours.