You are desperate,
More broken than you ever thought it was a possible for a human to be
And you just need a hope that you’ll survive the hour
So you pop a pill
But it doesn’t have nearly the power you need
Not nearly enough of a kick to save you
So before you know it you’re taking two to get through the night, every night
And then three, four
But then a small handful
(well as small as you can get; because no one ever needs to know you forced yourself to squeeze some of those large handfuls back in the bottle)
And then six, eight
But then you don’t even want to bother counting anymore
Because it’s 4:00 in the morning and you’re grappling with a bottle
Knowing you’re two hours away from facing your mom
And four from seeing your friends
But part of you has been pulling away from them, to cover up your…  situation
But part of you is hoping they’ll follow, and see that you’re different, that you need help
And, all in all, you don’t know if you started out better than this or worse
You only know a few things:
You need as many pills as you can get but you need to make everything seem normal
You are desperate.