Salem Footprints They Say

My footsteps feel lighter against the ground compared to how they feel against my chest. Heavy thumping as if I stomp on my own lungs while I walk. My brain refuses to flush and my walking is slow, long and feeling purposeless. I continue on giving myself check points, keeping in checking, checking surrounding, check check check. I reach asphalt, I reach the glass, barefooted, raggedy I step on glass and asphalt still wandering. I reach the opposite corner, and island in my journey, and I stop. I stop concluding my decision, I stop knowing my own words. The direction switches, I begin retracing, I begin formulating. I no longer feel a heave of weight anywhere but under me as I walk in a more determined fashion,... as I know my footprints.