Your breathing is ragged.

Your lungs are on fire.

Your body is exhausted,

but you continue.

No food.

No calories.

Just water is what you tell yourself.

Your loved ones worry about your weight.

You worry about your weight.

The same thought,

just slightly skewwed.

No one knows the past is what you run from.

They just see you run.




But they don't understand,

your demons keep chasing you

and there is no escape.


Guide that inspired this poem: 


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