2.27.12

for once,

running, fleeing.

trying so hard to avoid

it.

death.

but the pain,

chasing me,

doesn't want to leave.

doesn't want to let me

live.

because finally,

i want to live.

want to be happy.

or at the very least,

i want to want to live.

and this feeling,

so elusive,

is rare, and beautiful.

but beauty is hard to come by,

made harder still by the demons,

yearning to sink their teeth

into me.

and i don't want to

cut them off,

again.

and i'm running

out of breath.

out of energy.

out of life.

and into those

open,

waiting arms.

arms ready to embrace me,

yet again.

and make me warm

and comfortable

in their icy grasp,

while pulling me down,

down,

down,

where death is still waiting for me.