Titles are Overrated

Part 161

Your calloused hands shake

and your chest

feels heavy.

You glance over your shoulder

as you walk,

heart racing

and your feet following.

You can't escape.

Your hands turn into fists,

ready to be bloodied.

There's no way

you're going to let them

see you're afraid,

are you?

God forbid 

the tears in your eyes

from slipping down

your cheeks.

You swallow the lump

in your throat,

the sickness that comes with it.

You have to breathe in and out,

even with

the bruises in your lungs.

Forget the hope

of being saved.

You must save yourself -

what you've always

had to do. 

saving your breath, but for what?