I am running.
I can feel the hot summer air whipping through my tangled hair,
And I can feel the sharp rocks and shells against my feet,
Pat, pat pat,
I feel the fast but steady rhythm of my feet slapping the wet sand.
When I trip,
I block out all pain that could distract me.
The warm blood ease through my fingers,
And drips in slow motion of my hand.
A solitary crimson bead,
It hits the ground and follows me, leaving a trail behind it.
I throw back my head,
Shouting to the wonderous world that awaits me.
Now I am in a forest,
The branches and vines whipping my face.
But I keep going.
I take slow, deep breaths that keep me going in a journey to nowhere.
I feel a drop of shining sweat fall slowly down my face.
More comes down,
And soon I am drowning in the salty liquid.
When I inhale,
All I get is the sweat.
When I exhale,
I am a churning wave,
Growing ever larger as I feel the power of the ocean tug me to its waters,
Waiting to welcome me.
I rush down the mountains,
Leaving nothing behind,
But the faint hum of my being.
Nothing can get in my way now.
I near the waters,
And I feel the ever growing tug of the ocean urging me closer and closer,
Until I crash in the seas.
Nothing can stop me now.
I am running.