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| My lungs sear with pain and my heart threatens to burst but still I run. I can�t stop. So I don�t. My muscles scream with pain. The anguish is only a little less than I can bear, every breath rasps on my throat. Oxygen seems only to feed the conflagration in my lungs. In my mind I have already given up but my body refuses to do so. Like a machine it keeps on. Insurrectionary and independent it punishes me. My mind is clouded and muddled. Every movement of my body serves to pierce me with burning icy needles. My entire body is a lacerated mass of wounds barely held together by my failing mind. It is more than I can take. | ||