I am running from a demon inside me. This is not a race I can afford to fix. While I can fudge the results, I cannot fulfill my (passive) passion if I have truly cheated. My outstanding ulcers will know if I run like the wind and it is actually a belly-full barrel that is standing on my feet. With all this, my racing pulse pulls at my wits and the spirits that are pursuing me plunge with knives into my thumping, thwarting, thawing heart. A frozen heart can be a help if not a hindrance. This is the only piece of positive punishment I have. I am running and I cannot stop.

blood

run

breath

lungs

tears

cry

blood

run

lips

lungs

tears

x

buds

teeth