On Intrusive Thoughts

I’m thinking St. Jude has got a hold on me

My head my hands my head

Shaking so violently

Hand me a bottle, babe

I can’t breathe

I need to breathe

I need to breathe

Help me breathe

St. Jude is laughing something like ecstacy

Something inside of me

She’s twisting me up,

Shaking me down

The impulses-dear,

They’re getting too loud and I don’t

Know whose mind they’re coming from

Not mine

Not mine

Not mine

I know I swore that I’d be fine but

What if I can’t make them stop?

Will you catch me if I leap

But maybe, maybe I could just

Fall into something sweet

Sweet like poison, sweet divine

If I could just lie down in a bliss of

Apathetic dreams and hungry fever

If I could just breathe

I’m thinking St. Jude’s got a hold on me

Patron saint of the lost causes and

I just might be one

 

This poem is about: 
Me

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741