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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