I have a folder on my desk
A mess of mental unrest
Thick and obtuse
Like the shape of my body
Side effects of meds
Introduced

For years I
Capitalized on my own
Demise
Waiting for a distraction
Leave a note, no retraction
My skin, once golden
became pale, thin
Veins that taunted
Scenarios of endings
Haunted

I held hands with
My own enemies
Clenched fists
Put the purpose for
The others ahead of me

All the time I skirted
Mental fences
Anxiety with a capital A
Defenseless

Though I suppose
Though I’m predisposed
My armor, though cracked
I’ll take up my cross
Upon my back
And carry on.