I want to be that boy, in baggy tee and short shorts.Sinewy legs push off the ground;The ground pushes backAnd off he soars, leaps, races.When I ran, I ran away, butHe runs to. To what?Breathe in, gain, breathe out, pain. I breathed in razor bladesThat rattled and sliced down my throatAnd lungs and settled in my knees.They buckled and my feet achedAnd I wanted to stop breathing.His hair floats, smacks against his forehead, whipping him on.His sweat beads And tricklesDown his temple.He looks shiny and glowingAnd at peace with the world - A touch, no-nonsense intense peace.The ground pushed him but he pushed back.Gravity drags him down, but he fights itAnd he's FreeFor a few seconds.Long enough to feel, see, be clearly.I want to be like that beautiful boy.
