Faster

Atop the steepest hill, my hand comes off the brake again.

And I move slowly at first,

But that soon changes.

I Pity the wind that

tries to stop me

as I go faster:

faster than

everyone

else

If only for a moment.

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741