I can see myself in front of me, drifting.
I see it happening, I see myself crossing
the double yellow line, the lines
that should not be crossed. But,
I do not care for lines I did not draw.
I know,
I know what I am doing.
I cannot stop.
They do not train you how to
deny the satisfaction of
defying your mind, to look into
your own eyes
with rebellious spite
to oppose and detest what
your hearts silently cries.

My eyes are locked in with my own,
the final round, to even the score
and I persist with a defiance
I did not know I possessed,
but maybe that is it.
I am possessed:
my phantom hands and shadowed heart
have let both hands go.

I still smile
although my soul whispers,
in pleading whimpers
in desperate cries
please turn back now,
please do not let go
lest your heart will crumble
like burned out coal.

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