It’s Me
It’s me —
running, running
until there’s no air left.
Gasping, gasping —
but there’s no relief.
A cloud follows —
the future turns bleak.
. . .
Solace dances close,
calling —
never to be reached.
Darkness folds in,
and the rain pours down.
I need a break.
I cannot breathe.
. . .
I stumble,
I crack —
I turn to see who’s chasing —
this figure that never tires,
always within reach.
My heartbeat drums through the storm.
I reach for air that isn’t there.
. . .
I look back —
and it’s me.