It comes, uncooperative as I am
places itself at the forefront
having pushed its way through
from the darkest of corners.
I’ve a chemical defence against it
ineffective but dependable,
closing my eyes, I see it clearer
these are the thoughts that linger.
Long into the night, they come and go,
I push them aside for flights of fancy
but nothing is a permanent
as the worst of my imagination.
I relive horrors that haven’t happened
without warning or wanting
little images I create , of your death or mine
and there’s no deterrent I know.
I continue on, not unhindered
burdened as we are by our own thoughts,
well or wasted, they have power
and we would be remiss to ignore them entirely.
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