Run off sentences

I run. I run to things and away from others. I run and run and when theres no where to run, I vanish. I live in the stories I imagine. But I forgot which were true. When it accidentally worked out for me that I became a writer, I was fooled into finding the answer. Because even though I was a stranger to the language, every word I wrote was true. It was like writing a cry for help but while answering it. The words weren’t mine, but the sentences were. Towards the end, I ran out of paper and didn’t know what to do. So I looked up and found more life off the page. I forgot I was the writer, not the character running through the book.