Rescuer SyndromeYou don't need a rescuer.In the state of fear, you need yourselfMore than anything else you can grasp for.Two people,Bloody hands on the steering wheel,An open wound gasping in the back seat.That is you driving yourselfTo the hospital.That is you with heavy eyes,Trying to hold on,Teeth red,Shirt wet.That is you saying, stay with me,Stay with me, I'm here, I'm here.You're not running. Not runningFrom the broken mess calling for helpAbandoned on the pavement.No one's running.You're here, here with yourself.I'm here, present in myself.And we are going somewhere where there's help.