People are built for different rides.
Meant to travel at different speeds.
Yet, I consistently fall into the rut of grabbing people by the hand
trying to take them places
where they are unable the breathe.
I tell them they’re in for the journey of a lifetime
to which they eagerly agree, and start to run along with me
but inevitably fall behind, gasping.
I cry out and keep my fingertips outstretched
urging them to take hold
but am unable to stop my velocity
and as time tears me further and further
from those who crumpled when their lungs started to implode
I wonder – why do I have to go here alone?