By Ellie Gober
PROMPT — I will not rest until ...
I will not rest until I cannot go farther.
At least that is what I tell myself.
The pounding of my feet,
the pounding of my heart,
the pounding of my head,
remind me of something lost.
Undoubtedly human,
but lost.
So I run
and run
and run
and run.
Blood pulsing in my legs,
cold morning air burning my lungs,
my mind an empty room,
I run.
Trees scratch my arms,
jolting me awake,
as if what I was waiting for had arrived.
A memory strikes me like lightning,
only to vanish just as quick.
I stop.
Realizing we cannot go further,
pretending to be something else.
Fighting the humanity that lurks behind closed doors.
Stony faces hide cracked hearts,
yet we push on.
We will not rest,
until our broken insides tear us apart.
That memory,
that lost puzzle piece,
will disappear further.
At first it is loud,
the healing.
Then it turns quiet.
A stillness infecting the air.
So still all I can hear is my breath.
I remember how undoubtedly human I am.
So, I start walking.
Even if I am the only one.
I will rest.
I will rest until I am healed,
Waiting on others to join me.
Ellie Gober is from a small mountain town. She has had a passion for reading and writing since she was a young girl, but had not really experienced writing poetry until two years ago. It gripped her, and now poetry is her go-to form of expression and creativity.
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