Why did you run and from who?

I ran from my own rib cage
burnt myself like sage-- ran
to put out the fire that it started
in my ankles-- in the brambles 
down by where we used to get
tick bites on our thighs--
my father dressed the parasites in
red nail polish until they died woozy
and drunken like a top-heavy
twelve-year-old who wanted to be 
a firework while also becoming 
the ash. I don't know why I ran--
I ran like the cap of a pill bottle
I ran like a washing machine
and I'd collect the pennies after
the spin cycles--
even if they were all sea foam green
I mean I would keep them like
veal medallions and scallions
in my pockets for a dinner
I never wanted to eat--
I ran, I ran, I know I ran 
from dinner plates-- I only eat from
bowls  now because they
are round the like all the things I
fear and all the things I run from--
I ran like timers for bread that would 
never burn
because the oven wasn't even on--
Charred my knees in the toaster
where I was trying to bake
an apology-- don't worry about me
I know it's an addiction and I know
it's going to be back and I know
it'll put me on the edge
of a forever fall-- I'll die
someday from the bread timer
break me when I'm gone and tell
them that I rose higher than the brambles--
but no-- today I'll run from nothing
but the Jupiter beetles--
I'm still running from a girl
who isn't a girl but
also isn't a loaf of bread or a penny.
She wants to die like a statue
but I want to know her like a firework work--
paint her cheeks in ash and 
tell her she can run her mind like a bread timer
and rest her burnt ankles
in the quiet places left
in my rib cage.