Solemn Hands

My life has been taken hostage by myself.
For these hands have killed for my free will they relinquish.
I have taken hold of this shotgun and pressed the barrel against my chest
I am yelling at them to take action
Panic.
The mass confusion swarms over my body like the flu
This time
Watch for sharp objects.
For my soul is covered in blood, and my head in the clouds.
And you know not the impact and the weight your words carry.
Scars are souvenirs that you carry with you
It's unthinkable.

Poem by J.A.D. © 2002