Marathon

The days drag on

As my knees scrape the ground

Because I’ve lost the will to stand.

“Stand up.

Run faster.

It’s not that hard,

You lazy ass.”

They scream from the sidelines.

I watch as other runners collapse,

Are consumed,

And I’m helpless to save them

Because I can’t save myself.

As if the taunts aren’t enough,

The cattle prod of guilt stabs me if I slow,

And I watch as those behind me

Crumble with the ground in apathy.

I see the finish line—

It’s just there—

But it isn’t real.

The other is farther off than I can see.

Beyond it is blissful nothingness.

Beyond it is death.