Trees, Dreams and Home

Running is the way that I get out my frustrations. The trail doesn't judge me, berate me, or annoy me.
A tree sits on top of the hill, waiting to be touched. I touch it for different things, forcing my legs to carry me there. Sometimes a touch it for him, for me, for the basketball state game.
It's a stupid superstition that I can't let go. If I sacrific myself, forcing my legs to carry me there, it will help them somehow. I am saying to them, if I can, you can too. I don't want to go home, I want to stay in my running shoes forever. Home is wonderful. However, it hasn't always been that way. The spirit of contention has ruled my home. It has taken away love and put hatred in its place. I have seen things in my home that I will never forget. People I love and trust letting me down. Drugs. Screaming. The collision of opinon. The lack of responsibilty. The battle to fight what is right. Is it right? Is there a gray area between what is wrong and what is right? Not being able to prove my point. I am often drowned out by fears. Mocking laughter.My fear overtakes the will to stand up for myself. I remain quiet. Past the point of crying, I sit and stare. Trust is broken, bridges are burned. I will never forget. I am back to the trail. I love running, it relieves so much stress. The pain in my lungs may distracts me from the pain in my heart. My dreams are pointless. No one can be trusted, ever.People will let you down and pull you down. You and God. That is what you have. I touch the tree.