The Thought

The Thought

The terror how it pulses,

Running through my veins.

My thoughts are rapid,

Everywhere,

They torture me all day.

And yet that thought within your head,

You must make it stop,

And you know just what to do.

Just the thought,

Of such a thought,

It makes my blood run cold.

But gradually,

I become weaker,

And know not if I can resist.

It makes me shiver,

Quite a lot,

And they all think I’m merely cold.

I want to obey,

This bloody thought,

How good an idea it is.

But something strange,

It stays my hand,

Oh how I wish it wouldn’t.

I feel I’m ready,

Let me go,

I want no more of this.

But yet they all still give a shit,

Even though they shouldn’t.

They hold me back,

They don’t let go,

Though I want to jump.

They see this in my face,

And refuse to let it go.

So I won’t,

And so I can’t,

Cos they mean so much to me.

I really don’t want to hurt them,

But I want the pain to stop.