Sweat drips off me
I let my arms fall limp to my sides
My breathing is all jacked up with my lungs on overdrive trying to allow oxygen to my heart
I'm slumped over with my head down at my knees
My cutoff is trenched with my sweat and tears
My watch goes off and my break is over
I see the countdown to cross the street
The humidity is insane and the signal to cross turns white
I start to jog again and inhale deeply and continue on my way.
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CopyRight MyTimeWasYestderday
YOU ARE READING
The Expressionists
PoetryThey speak. I hear. I breath. He looks. They run. I look away. I turn back. They disappear. I wake up. They are gone. Them and he; are just shadows. -------- The Dreamer CopyRight MyTimeWasYesterday
