Medicate me, I’m a mess.
A ****** up forgotten trash bag.
Smiles begin to sag,
And I feel less like myself.
Trapped in an everlasting personal Hell.
My life has always been a scale
Of playing it safe and false alarms.
I gave myself scars to prove
Pain on the outside doesn’t match up
With what I feel inside.
Disgusting depression degrading me still
Fill me up with a happy pill.
Don’t spiral me downward,
Sustain me with sweet serotonin.
I want to feel mania
Wash over me.
Artificially make me happy,
I am your robot to program now.
No longer to live of my own volition.
A pill can save me,
Less likely to be stuck with
Worthless self-pity.
Prozac, Lexapro; other reuptake
Suppressants.
I am coming to love antidepressants.
A junior ***** to be;
Pop these drugs,
Be set free.
Ironic, isn’t it?
Jail cells made from
Prescription bottles
Are supposed to liberate me
From constant sadness.
But, how can that be?
With a chemical to rely on,
I am not actually free.
I am doomed.
I am crazy.
This is who I am.
I will never be normal.
Just a little longer,
I’ll be fine when life kills.
Guess I’ll **** down more happy pills.