Tuesday, 7 June 2011

race

I'm running. The pistol fires in my gut, jerks me forward a step. I missed it...carry on walking as though all is normal.my heart races.
inside I'm running and I cannot keep up with my self.
It will all catch up with me.

it has to,
it has to.

My flesh flushes.the heat on the underground disagrees with my deathly pallor.
I'm sure I flush deeper with the embarrassment of being flushed to begin with.
I check my mirror, and notice it's all in my head.the burning isn't noticeable.


I remind myself over and over of my own exaggerated world view. that this suffering is nothing.

not compared with so many others. It doesn't make me feel better, just more guilty.


I notice that I go even more out of my way for the elderly ladies who come to my till now, one on Saturday was so sweet she nearly brought me to tears after walking away.


see, now I freeze.the wave hits me and I freeze.because sitting in this office is not the place for this.

I want my Gran.
I keep remembering the things she used to say.

nothing else hurts like it used to, not since losing her. nothing compares.nothing.

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