Against My Will

[peterbrown]

In vacant lots
Lay vacant thoughts.
The wasteland
Of my mind
Moving forward
Two steps back
I’m creeping
Up behind
To rid myself
Of myself
Mercy’s hand I hold
Death grip
On reality
This story will unfold
Of me
My greatest enemy
Of me-
My only friend
Drowning swimming
Loving lost
My noose
Comes to its end
Softly cradled
In my arms?
Or strangled by
My hands?
Either way
The end is met
I took what
I demand.