I keep getting
Winded
From the hurt
Which steals
My breath

When running fast
Toward safeties
Where a past
Does not
Exist

Through air
With better
Hopes
Like oxygen
Come tomorrow

In bursts
Enough
For sprinting
Away from
Dreaded death –

What stretch
Or old expanse
Has feelings
Real
But crazy

Pursuing
Fate relentless
As I race
And challenge
Fear

Without
That beating heart
To sustain
My brisk
Momentum

Driven
By sheer
Exposure
To pressures
Hardly new,

As failures
Trail
My path
Dragging pain
Behind me

Holding down
My answers
Or chance
To up
And leave

Even if
This weight
Was a weak
Yet obvious
Reason

For losing
Before I finish
Across
That line
I’ve drawn.

– J. Pigno