over the fence

you can hear
the dogs
chasing you, as
you run
through the woods,
fighting
through the bramble
and thorns,
dragging
a broken chain
around
your ankle.
you hear them
yelling,
blowing whistles,
the bullhorn
calling
you out,
telling you
to stop running
and you won't
be harmed.
but you keep
going, you've
tasted
life on the other
side,
and you won't
be going back,
dead
or alive
to that married
life.