My legs pumping trying to keep up with the one ahead,
the one I desire,
for nothing.
Cramps stab my sides like a knife with
no mercy,
but the drive to win is so impeccably strong,
I raise my knees in an effort to lengthen
my strides.

I race down the track of ignorance and bliss,
“Nothing could go wrong!” I tell myself.
Mere wish.
I brace myself for the first hurdle,
jump to clear it,
and miss.
The plastic cracks and the hurdle
tumbles over.
My shins splinter from the force of the fall.

He’s ahead of me; set to pass the baton,
he’s moving on to the net,
fake baked, bleach blond,
but I’m still running, no one to pass my
baton to.
legs like lead,
each step smashes the blackened track.
“Per sempre e sempre,” he reassures you.
Lies.

Spikes stabbing into the ground propelling myself forward,
through the shin splints of a forgotten birthday,
through the cramps of a cheater,
through the lead legs of a liar.
My legs keep going,
but my heart stops racing.