i can already feel myself runnning from this;
the tensed muscles
already shaking out the pain
this race will cost me,
just to see if
i will finish
(can)
this time.
the finish line
looks so far
distant-
as i know i must seem sometimes...
and i've barely begun to try.
why do i set myself up for failure?
the hugs and tears
i get
for being such
a
graceful
loser...
or perhaps
the guarantee of an endless track
A race with no finish...
no one but me,
reveling in all my glory.
Leaving everyone
far behind...
in my dust...
the wake of sorrow
the tape feels
knowing i will never break its heart,
because i am running in the opposite direction.
Copyright 2005 weheldhandsattheendoftheworld
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