Vitesse – Shreya Vikram

i run 3

A litany, a promise, a prayer.
Run.
I run so fast, I will tear out of this sordid flesh, out of gilded skin and ivory bone.
I see myself: I am hollow, a pit of red.
I am the colour of blood, the colour of rage. The colour of flesh, the colour of shame.
I am shackled, by these strands of vein. They coil around me, tighter, tighter, I cannot breathe.
I see the cage, clearer than ever, this prison of flesh.
I see this promise, I hear its oath.
Run, it whispers. If you run fast enough, you’ll break free.
And so, I do.

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I run on fear, I run on fire.
I run for pain, the excruciating burn of desire. I burn for the exquisite absence of thought.
I run so fast, I leave behind my self, I will rust away until there is nothing left of me. Out of breath, out of life.
I want to lose myself, in the purest sense of the phrase, I want to forget, to be misplaced. I want to leave behind this life.
Bone to dust; blood can rust.

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I see the cage, clearer than ever, this prison of red.
I hear these voices, I trust in their message.
Run , they whisperIf you run fast enough, you’ll break free.
I know I can.
I know I can.


Shreya Vikram is a writer who prides herself on her ability to blur the lines between poetry and prose, intensity and elegance. You can read more of her work at The Midnight Ember.