Awful Paradox

by Sam M. Phillips

I’m sure to be worried

About one thing or another,

And so I don’t even bother

To try and stop it,

I let my obsession be lit,

A bright spot in my mind,

Sure to find

Its dominate place,

But I can control the space

To which it spreads,

My heart dreads

Being consumed,

And this paranoia has resumed,

Loomed over me like a weapon,

A death stroke I depend upon,

Maybe I want the torture?

But I can’t be sure,

Hysteria is a lure

That drives me on,

A cape I don

To obscure my madness

And escape sadness,

But it causes distress

In the end

If I depend

On it too much—

Such an awful paradox.

***

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