Copper Lung

Pushed past the breath, past the burn in the thigh,

trying to outrun a feeling, just passing by.

Then it hits, that familiar, sharp taste,

a metallic tang, not a second to waste

on thinking. Just push, through the grit in the air,

that coppery film coating everywhere.

It’s a signal, I know, that I’m deep in the red.

Past the pain, past the sense in my head.

This raw, iron flavor, it means I’m alive,

that I’m pushing the engine, just trying to thrive.

And for a moment, nothing else counts or is true,

just the fight for air, and that taste coming through.