They said my hand is a weapon

Because it's covered in dirt

So put it away

Before someone gets hurt

They claimed my head is a bomb

Cuz they hear it tick tock

So you best just stay put

Instead of risking a walk

They said my tounge is a sword

Quite deadly but small

So I finally agreed

And beheaded them all

The pills make me brave
no more stumbling words
or drowning in attention-waves.

The pills make me calm
no more marathon in my chest
but no calm without a storm.

The pills make me relax
no more arson in my cheeks
but i know it soon will attack.

The pills make me happy
or at least they suppress the tears
but they haven't set me truly free.

The pills make me a better version
while the real me is still a wreck
how do i break the distortion?

The pills make me feel alive
yet i'm still dying on the inside
but here i am; i intend to survive.