The doctor hands me a prescription
I cough
"Just so the coughing doesn't keep you up all night" he says
"There's nothing else that can really be done for you"

I read the label on the bottle
"Codeine" it says
Right above all the DISCLAIMERS and side effects

I pour out my proper dose
One teaspoon of brownish-red liquid
And swallow it in a gulp

It's oddly minty

I feel it sliding through my system as I crawl in bed
It wants control, so after a brief tussle
I relent

I notice how warm and dark it is
My breathing slows
And the best part is,
I'm not thinking

I don't have to think about all my worldly ties

The first thing I do think when I wake up is that
I can see how other people can't get enough of this
I crave it, just a little, I miss it

DISCLAIMER:
It's not that I want these thoughts to pass, or would ever take action on them.
It's just that there is some part of me that isn't scared of them, isn't scared of never thinking again, and that scares me.

**I make sure my dose the next night is exactly, only a teaspoon.