harbouring a fugitive.
i hide him down below.
feel his anxiety and adrenaline.
when those sirens ring.
a marathon pulse.
sometimes he tries to look.
i push him back in.
They don’t see him.
a wanted man.
yet not wanted by anyone.
left to rot in the lost.
daring not to show his true face.
harboring a fugitive.
that is myself.
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