Runaway

Unaided and unassisted, you are solo, facing strenuous challenges, dealing with your crude, lonely emotions. As a vagrant beggar, your dressed in commoner's clothing, with grease marks blanketing your forehead. Constantly tormented by hunger, your stomach pangs with an emptiness, one that haunts your dreams and your nightmares. You have sunk, like an anchor, to the bottom, to a new low. You are trapped in a cold, abrasive feeling of depression, where you can't vanish. Your blackened shoes have rumpled your feet and brought sharp, hallucinating pains, as if your feet were being crushed by a grinder. Your back experiences aching, throbbing sensations, as if you have nestled with a porcupine. You are solitary and wrenching in recoil, like a machine gun after it has fired off a round, like a snake after it has snapped its curved fangs at you. For you, night is your daytime and day is your nighttime, it must be, in order to sneak and steal as you must. You are a runaway, bold, yet concealed, for like a candle, the flame residing inside you, the one that keeps you going, is slowly being extinguished.