Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2016
They can prescribe
Pills to make you sleep,
Pills to make you happy,
Pills to stop the anxiety,
Pills to make you
Walk around
In a drunken haze
So that you can't connect
With the world enough
For it to hurt anymore.

They could give me pills
To help me get through work,
To make me smile at strangers,
They could give me pills
To fix my insomnia,
They could give me pills
To drown out the loop
Of anxiety
I'm constantly
Trapped in.

But could someone give me pills
To stop me from hurting him,
The thing I love most.
I'm like a white hot iron,
Sinking into his flesh,
Making it sizzle and
Making smoke curl up
In curvy pictures.
Can they give me pills
To stop that?

They can prescribe pills,
To stop your sneezing,
So help make your second
Shut up,
To stop your mood swings.

But can they give me pills
To stop me
From being so tired
From fighting every instinct
Of dysfunction I have?
I'm an artist of self destruction,
My brush strokes are skillful,
And aged with experience,
The colors make it stand out,
When you focus on it long enough.
Can they drug me until I forget
I can't even tell I'm hurting
The man I love
Until it's too late?
Can they give me pills to tune out
The reality that my own father
Molested me,
And that it will haunt my actions
For the rest of my life?

Can they give me pills to stop that?


It's a whip that stings across my back,
And face,
It thrashes at my body,
It will always be there,
And if you get too close
You get hit too,
And I have to watch you,
Praying you'll leave me.
Why do they think I don't let people in?

Because they can't prescribe me pills
To stop that.
Anonymous Freak
Written by
Anonymous Freak  22/F/USA
     ---, SPT, b e mccomb, Mims, cloudphaser and 3 others
Please log in to view and add comments on poems