RUNNING

Jennifer A, 11th- Oakland CA
The pounding in my ears,
The sweat pricking needles down my skin,
The pressure on my chest that felt like-
a construction worker layering bricks
over and over and over again.

Everyday,
The hospital smelled- I couldn’t describe it-
a nauseating scent of sick and clean,
a waft of bleach coming from the sheets,
a fragrance of fading flowers, beginning to grow foul and putrid.

At first,
I hated it.
I hated- the sweat rushing down my face,
That feeling- like someone had stolen my breath and all I could do is wheeze and wheeze-
The way time slowed down and what felt like hours was barely even seconds
Yet it grew on me. 

And when the flowers dried up, the room reeked
Every breath I took- the deathly scent greeted me
It felt as if-
I was running. 
One last time to the end of the path.