It grabs me by the throat.
Suffocation is near.
And the cool sharp blade seems enticing…
An intermission, one short sweet slice,
A break from its choke, like a boat
Drifting through the swift undulating water
Away from its homely pier…
Be gone you fleeting thoughts!
No more can I- gasp- no! I must not!
I must… must… fight…
However, growing weaker under these stones, I note
My breath, just wisps, clipped, and fear
Dances around my heart, waiting for its invite;
Its anxious dripping venom and vice
Provoke my circumventive thoughts of flight.
Will I muster the strength to exhume
The menacing brutal rocks that loom
Upon my heart, upon my breast, upon my soul?
Or just let them Collapse?,
Is the Question
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