I had a nasty fall not too long ago
And I'm left with this ugly scab on my knee.
When I showed my mom,
She said it looked like it was healing fine.
I showed her
A different angle
To see the rim of black around the top.
You see, she told me
"It's not hot to the touch anymore,
Just use some peroxide,"
But when she pressed,
It hurt.

I use some peroxide,
I take my lamictal.
I go to bed.

In my mind
I sleep under the big locked window
And take pills from paper cups
Under the watchful eyes of doctors.

When I wake up I remind myself
That this is not a hospital
And I can eat with silverware
And this time when I take my medicine
It is neither from paper cup
Nor manic handful.

It's not hot to the touch anymore
(But when you press, it hurts.)