Shortness of breath,

heavily panting,

a sharp pain in her weak lungs

as she sprints endlessly down streets,

her mind racing simultaneously with

her sore legs,

wind harsh against her flushed cheeks

as her eyes squint in desperate search

of what she is running for,

to find her ultimate purpose,

and now the miles are dangerously

piling on top of one another,

thoughts on top of thoughts,

for she cannot stop running,

as she fears if she stops to stay still,

that she will be silenced,

that nothing of her story will remain.