Gwen Dixon Poet I do not know?

Paranoia

The clock strikes 2 am
And I’m alone in a dark room
But I can still hear their voices.

They want me to fail, to fall on my face
They want me to go through hell
They want me to lose my mind.

2:51, time stands still.
My world revolves around my mistake

I can’t think, I can’t breathe.

3:08
I fall asleep
Only to dream about the afterlife.
And wish I was there.

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Robert Pettit January 5, 2011 at 5:35 PM You certainly have rendered a clear description of typical paranoia with these relatively few words. Good job.

Poet Destroyer A January 4, 2011 at 7:28 PM humm! Gwen, the paranoia sounds striking... a bit of guilt,,, enjoyed your poem,..p.d.