Your Raspberry Lips

surrounded by mountains that stretch for miles, the water rising to my neck. i am drained, and my leg is throbbing, my foot painstakingly twisted at an odd angle. i can no longer run. i grab the water stained pages and my ruffled pen, the ink semi-frozen, and with the only things left to hold dear to me, i begin to write. may i evade death in these lost moments in time, forever held together by paper and ink.