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Dread/Mercy

I need help,
Or maybe something more like mercy.
I don’t know who can deliver it.
Maybe I can get it in a shot,
Or better still, in a pill?
I’m a pawn in my mind’s games:
Crippling anxiety and self-loathing,
Spiraling and building on its own
Dreadful momentum.
I don’t deserve much from this life,
At least that’s what I’ve been told.
The world spins and it will never stop.
You can’t fight yourself, even when it’s
Clear the despair is part of you.
Maybe I’ll pray,
In Hebrew, in a minyan,
Like I used to do.
Perhaps they’re right and I’m not worthy.
Doomed to die with an unheard yelp?

© 2022 Jeff E. Brown. All rights reserved.

By jebrownwriter

Houston, TX-based Writer and Photographer. Proud pet rescuer who spends nearly all his money on them.

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