Shock against the pavement. Salty tears slipping down my back. Jolts in my ankle, and hair falling slack.
The ground keeps on rolling, my legs swinging across every place. A breath staggers each second, the heart throbs at perfect pace.
The world is ever-changing, flowing by in a ride. My brain filtering the day’s moments, as my eyes begin to slide.
Colors bounce along the horizon, the sun is biding his time. I race against this natural clock, proving this life is forever thine.
I speak with my footsteps, an impression slapped in the road. Arms swing loosely, yet sharp with rhythmic load.
I am detached from within, my physical being there and not. Muscles ache and whine, broken fibers re-stretched and fought.
Before, the journey seized my mind—the Mile would attack my will. His visits are a beautiful threat, the bearer of both pain and thrill.
Then I glimpsed the freedom, the unity of body and soul. Two powers and spirits, intertwined with total control.
I could never go back, to the divide I once owned. Forward, forward they whispered, to where existence never loans.
For I do not take to the streets by force, I only seek where I’ve never been before.
When the sweat begins to overpower, my will screams louder. This is no desperate race, its about not losing face.
It’s not about finishing, it’s about being.