Forest Creatures

Blinded
I run, green, brown, and black all blurring together.
Scared
I run, for they surely will find me.
Cold
I run, my skin raised, washed over and over again.
Hurt
I run, warmth running down my leg, dripping.
Knowingly,
I fall, my face slapping against the mud
Filling my nostrils with humid moss
Filling my mouth with tasteless material.
They found me and I did not care.