Banging, banging, banging
fists into doors.
Running down hallways,
away from them,
as far away from them
as is inhumanly
possible. The nowhere
where we are going
is not through any of
these doors; it is out.
It is into the open,
through that plastic gate
that you can't just
nudge open.
It requires shoving
and pushing,
all the things
your mother told you
never to do.
