It started with one foot in front of the other

and continued from that point onward with
an inane, insane upward spiral of continuity
and madness.  The pattern, the rhythm still
the same, only the meter of the staccato
thud thud thud has changed, protecting
innocent pavement.  They always talk
about some sort of high they get, but I
never seemed to notice any highs, only
lows and burning.  Flames leap in legs
stretching --- twisting musculature for
sadistic entertainment, rolling one shot
of pain towards the next, as stopwatch
clicks off the final thirty-seven seconds.