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.