From within my lungs,
breathing that burns from my fiery heart,
I hoarsely whisper some mantra:
“I was here, now I’m there”
to myself and no one at all.
Legs about to collapse,
mind about to faint,
I’m back where I stood
some time ago, more tired now.
Yet as running becomes routine,
sometimes punishment for its sake,
I know what hope I gleamed for my own.
My mind knows I’m here again,
but my heart feels that I’m somewhere new:
There
Poetry Vomit 