It was at kilometer six

that I fell hard to the ground.

I should’ve looked very sick

according to the crowd.

The paramedics came fast,

to check all my vital signs

and ask my name and the time

and whether I knew where I was.

I wasn’t exhausted or sick,

I didn’t fall for overheating

and wanted them to understand

was much less for lack of breathing.

They were checking for contusions;

I told them my head was fine.

They thought it was just confusion

when I started to cry.

They even wanted the stretcher.

Then I was so desperate,

all the attention was a stressor

and could not communicate.

My face still between their gloves,

I shouted I was too healthy,

that I fell not for the physics,

but because I needed love.

Explained that I lost my focus

when I swiftly said your name.

They looked at me as if loco,

but released me from their hands.

It was at that precise moment

that I could finally stand up.

Told them thanks, have a good day,

and I continued to run.

I tried not to think about you:

focused my mind on my breathing,

keep the pace and timing too,

as if you I was forgetting.

But then at kilometer eight

your name came back to my mind

(perhaps it was to my heart).

And I felt like I was tripping

so, instead, I started to walk.

But this time I didn’t cry.

However, my race was destroyed

despite all my hard days training.

I could not break my own record

and spent the whole day whining.

I thought it was just my job,

or my studying, or my reading,

but seems like just even living

is affected by your ghost.

Here I am missing you badly

not able to even exist

as a normal person does.

Does this happen only to us?

or can a lover resist

a heart that became unhappy?

The race I know I’ll forget,

but not your eyes nor your scent.

Any of yours makes me faint:

even just thinking your name.