They've Clipped My Wings Again

So I run, and I run, and I run and all the while I think about how my feet are carrying me around this small track, and why I haven't passed out yet. Never does is cross my mind that in four hours I'll feel a whole part of me is missing, and I'll know exactly why because it's my fault...   I don't understand myself, nor do I pretend to. I have these thoughts that intertwine themselves around my brain and suddenly I'll wonder how they got there. Do I even know what they mean? Usually no. Doesn't matter? Probably not.