her lies taste like sweet nectarine,
those discreet kisses on my neckerchief,
make up on the pillows,
tears inside the handkerchief,
folded over and over to compress our fears into make believe,
in origami,
the patterns left,
embedded in my chest,
alieness to something,
but so close to where you used to be.

name: grace
age: seventeen
grade: high school junior
social security number: 6- wait

when you first meet someone,
they'll ask tons of questions.
but what's too personal
you'll have to decide for yourself.

what will I own up to?
a lot.
I give the straight out truth.
staying private isn't a concern of mine.
what's one of my truths?
I've been on medication-
a lot of it.

Zoloft, Prozac, Xanax...
you name it.
depression wasn't a choice
but I chose to get help
and for me that meant medicine.
am I dependent on it?
I fear so

I lost my dad before he died.
drugs are a scary thing.
my mom didn't want to see me taken away
so we left before I could remember.
do I know what really happened?
barely.
he died when I was six.
when I uncovered a sliver of the reality
I made that promise.
I'll never do drugs

I'm in control of my life.
chemicals aren't going to affect how I act.
except they do.
every day.
I can't get through my day without them.
I learned what happens when I do.

the dizziness
nauseousness
headache
horrifying nightmares
did someone just call me or am i hallucinating?
why is my foot tingling
reality of not having it one day.

it's called withdrawal.
I get it from missing a dose.
some get it when they can't find-- whatever they want.
is this going to be my life?
constant medication or I'm back to depression?
who am I without those prescriptions?
I can't remember- it's been three years.

why do I need this to function?
am I dependent?
I'm just the same as the rest of them
maybe I am doing drugs.