It's Just Me

It’s just me..
That I can see.
Holding my hand.
Standing impatiently..
Dragging my feet outside the door.
It’s just me..
That I can hear.
Sliding my gear..
Gauging vehemently..
Though dodging down the fear.
As I speed up the steer.
It’s just me..
That I need to face.
Stitching where holes..
Appeared through countless memoir.
Deep down yet traceable..
Are those noises unstoppable.
It’s just me..
That reflects power.
Tilting to the other side of the ladder..
Jumping to start the reverse way..
To go farther than yesterday.
Walking along side..
Running on roads wide..
Where vague defines every murmuring sound.
As those feet never again learn to touch the ground.


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