I grew up
As a medicine cabinet
I thought I had it in me
To fix them
The “everyone”s
The “everything”s
Now,
I’m older
And wiser to the fact
That god gave me wrists
And man made knives
And how the two
Can go on the sweetest honeymoon
I was given a throat
Which cannot fully wrap itself
Around the deteriorating state
Of my mind
My words come out gargled
I’m learning to wash them down
With the pills
I guess
I am a medicine cabinet
After all.