"lexapro" poems
A classmate exclaimed
As Mrs. Ragan shoved
An Aladdin mug
In my face as I
Gained consciousness
During sixth grade
Art class
My first seizure
The depression started
Soon after
10mg of lexapro
Five thereapists
Three neurologists
Doctors ****
Middle school was
A Deep Dark
Dooming Depression
I had no friends
I hated everyone
And everything
But mostly
I hated myself
Wishing I had drowned
Or never woke up from
My first seizure
Jul 17, 2011
Jul 17, 2011 at 5:20 PM UTC
I'm often faced with the question
"why don't you just take medicine?"
Zoloft
Prozac
Lexapro
Paxil
do they take away the memories
or replace the words slipping through their mouths?
do they stop the fluttering of thoughts racing around my tired brain?
do those tiny capsules create apologies or never said goodbyes?
do they stop my thoughts at the late hours of the night?
do the scars on my wrists magically disapear?
do they erase the images of every bad thing that's ever happened?
do they suddenly make me good enough for everyone I wasn't?
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 12:56 AM UTC
If I think harder do I burn more calories
Does being hot or cold burn more calories
Silent night time exercise
how many calories in
lexapro
ibuprofen
air
saliva
how many calories did Auschwitz prisoners eat
is diy liposuction possible
what body parts can you live without
could they have poured calories in this water
how to give myself the flu
can thinking about food make you fat
how much does a finger weigh
Dec 8, 2019
Dec 8, 2019 at 3:12 PM UTC
I worry that the only reason I have to write is because no one will listen to me
I can't leak my thoughts to my psychologist or psychiatrist or parent because I know that my words aren't safe and that legality triumphs anything I say
I know that I'm like lava at its boiling point, about to erupt
I know that I'm self destructive and that things are only getting worse
I have so much to say, maybe if I told the entirety of the truth, I could be helped
But I fear the corrupt system too much
And I don't want to say anything to my parents because they have watched my prolonged mental distress and they have seen my breakdowns and hysterical fits and they've heard my screams
I've been medicated
SSRIs and Xanax and Ativan and Prozac and Klonopin and Lexapro
I've spent hours in a therapist's office, only to censor my life and hear a psychology major regurgitate everything I already know
I can't stand it anymore
I want to be high on **** forever and laugh at nothingness
I want to be drunk to the point where I forget that life is even a thing
I want to kiss his lips and touch him every moment of the day because I'd feel loved even if I wasn't
I hate what has happened
I hate what is happening
I hate that I've changed
I hate how hard I try because the payoff never seems to pay off
And that I try to keep changing but everything isn't enough and everything won't ever cut it
I don't know what to do
I need endorphins and serotonin and beta-blockers and benzos
I need to know that this isn't a never ending cycle
I need to know that what I'm feeling is temporary and that this isn't what my life will be like
I need to tell my therapist and my doctor and my psychiatrist that I don't know what to do anymore and that the thoughts that control me are no longer bearable because I know that I want to live
I know however, that if I say the wrong thing, my words will be reported to DCFS and I could be baker acted and I don't want that to happen
So all I have in the end are my thoughts, killing me inside every moment of everyday
Tearing me apart like my lungs can no longer expand
Like my heart can no longer pump
Because my mind controls everything, and everything is in flames
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 6:45 PM UTC
it’s a pen of bulls in your stomach
the wonder, the not-knowing, the what-ifs, whens coulds and might-bes
the numbers on an oxygen tank dwindling down
too many thoughts becoming their own creatures,
tearing down cities that we carry inside
it’s leaves shivering from an island wind,
the people running away from shore
that moment when you slip on ice and you don’t know if you’ll catch yourself
it’s dying, not knowing where you’ll go
and space, not comprehending how vast
counting all the possibilities in the universe and only thinking
about the most horrific ones
some of us always live in worst case scenarios
and i,
have not yet mastered the art of surviving them.
Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 8:25 PM UTC
Don’t stand so close to me
God knows I hate you for it
standing miles high and reaching down
arms stretched out in the 2am
screaming *pull yourself up god ******
but my flailing hand passes through yours
like some sort of hologram
leave a message after the beep—you're not there
my nails are filled with dirt from the grave I’m digging
because hello my name is Atlas
and I got this world on my shoulders
it weighs four years
and they call it high school
they colored me Goliath
—some intellectual behemoth
and potential equals mgh, variable being height
but David felled me in an empty forest
and I didn’t make a sound
they rushed me toward a hospital
morphine (or was it lexapro?)
running through leaking veins
sir, her GPA is flat lining
please just let her go
but I keep thinking of that song
Pale Green Things
and--what happened to my baby?!--
my grandmother getting the call
so I’ll let my spine tear through my rice paper back
as I curl up to hold it in
and hope to God
that some other kid
will bring in his daddy’s paranoia
(hidden in a cardboard box beneath the bed)
to show and tell
and he’d let me take a little lead home
please not in the head
I never liked a mess
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 5:55 PM UTC
Endless streams of chemicals pumped into my veins
For the white coats, I was simply an experiment.
Prozac, Lexapro, and Wellbutrin
Every one of them failed to help.
But that's when I realized,
That you are the only remedy I could ever need.
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 12:04 AM UTC
cipralex pulsates thru veins,
dilutes blood to make me happ
-hey! legs seize in weird ache
- - dreamless sleeps where I
may not even be sleeping - -
wake up exhausted - - but basis
energy covered! so day survival
possible - - sometimes combination
of coffee + cip (cip of coffee)
cause tremors - - moments of 'ahhhgg'
panic attack redirected to calm productivity
- - day 5? since prescribed - - they say
2 to 6 weeks. I'll be patient.
Aug 23, 2013
Aug 23, 2013 at 12:49 PM UTC
Oh God, they’re coming
Those bloodthirsty hounds.
Tangled roots catch my feet
As I weave through the myriad of trees.
Nowhere to hide.
No shadow for refuge
Where they won’t find me,
Those murder-driven hunters.
Knowing me better than myself
Able to predict every step I take.
Running from them for so long
My feet have grown tired.
Being kept at bay
They have become impatient and strong.
I feel their hot breath on my neck.
I hear the pads of their feet pounding the ground.
I scream out for anyone to help
But my cry falls on deaf ears.
The nasty creatures pin me to the ground,
Stealing the air from my lungs.
Forcing me to look into its cold blue eyes
I feel it overtake me.
Its icy venom seeps into my bones,
Polluting my mind. My soul. My body.
Taking possession.
I feel its stone grasp.
The emotions course through my body,
Flooding the numb temple I had kept.
A silent tear escapes my eye,
That disgusting abomination.
Oh God,
Make it stop.
May 29, 2013
May 29, 2013 at 5:40 PM UTC
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.
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 4:01 PM UTC
Lexapro to be a pro
At a mastering the status quo
No one likes a Debbie Downer,
Do you have to be so sour?
Adderall not working anymore?
Getting up is still a chore?
Vyvanse might be what what you need.
Anything to help me, please!
Xanax for anxiety
And so it works reliably
Take it with hydroxyzine
Trazadone to help you sleep
Choke down a handful of these
Won't matter the amount
As long as it knocks you out
Let's try this, let's try that
Uh oh, looks like that one made you fat
Once we finish with the vat
We'll let you know how to get you back
Shut up, shut up, shut up!!
Can't you just grow up??!
Brushed off, brushed off, brushed off
A little something to take the edge off
Maybe you should meditate
But for now we're sending you upstate
Medicated since 15?
Have you tried a guillotine?
Struggle, struggle, struggle
Let's fit you for a muzzle
Sit down, sit down, sit down
You look just like a clown
We heard you the first time
Can't you ask without crying?
This drama queen
Can't get past what happened at 17
Crybaby if you ask me
Did you even hear her speak?
She's lost and can't be found
Let's show some mercy
Put this one down
Apr 26, 2025
Apr 26, 2025 at 10:28 AM UTC
i accidentally threw my toothbrush away last night and had to use the spare i’ve been saving for you
my eyeglasses had a water droplet on them and i couldn’t see straight it wasn’t because i was drunk
or sad
or angry
it was the water droplet blurring everything and bringing an end to fine edges and clarity answers
in the end it is kindness that undoes me
my dog brings me toys when i'm sad or sick and nudges them into my elbow like some knock-off substitution for benadryl or lexapro
i still have sand in my eyes from the desert you drug me through
it isn’t because i haven’t slept
or am hungover
or dehydrated
i swear it's the sand like diamonds
whenever i'm in the throes of a panic attack i wear the shirt my mom bought me because it makes me feel safe
the day after you i ask her if i'm allowed to tell her when i'm hungover or when i've made a mistake
but i can't because when you moved over me and my body responded
it wasn’t my mom's shirt anymore.
it was yours
Mar 15, 2017
Mar 15, 2017 at 10:36 PM UTC
at the age of 21
i was finally
legal to drink
at the age of 21
i was finally
legal to gamble
yet
at the age of 21
i slashed
my wrists
at the age of 21
i tried playing
within traffic
at the age of 21
i was ready to
swallow all of my lexapro
at the age of 21
the monster came out
the memories flooded
my brain
after years and years
of keeping them hidden
beneath the cupboard
after years and years
of keeping them locked away
so that sunlight
would never ever
touch them
where they would
rot away
turn black
turn cold
where these memories
ate away at my skin
like leaches in the dark
i should have been free
instead
i tried ending it all
i just want to feel again
Nov 26, 2018
Nov 26, 2018 at 7:50 PM UTC
1. I find myself longing for my faith. But nothing can make me believe in a God anymore, or even want to worship him.
2. I guess I just miss being naïve.
3. Sleeping pills.
4. Finding out that taking too much Lexapro makes me throw up for hours on end.
5. Finding out that taking more Lexapro won't make the sadness go away. It sits in the corner, waiting for me to come running back to it.
6. I run.
7. I'm scared.
8. I'm scared of death.
9. I'm scared of living.
10. I'm stuck.
11. I've allowed myself to think about your death. I've been in denial for so long...I guess I was just waiting to see you in the crowd one day.
12. Dying does not make you a ******* saint.
13. I want to cut again. I miss it more than anything. But I can't handle disappointing my parents.
14. I feel bad for my suicide attempt. I'm disgusted with myself that I made my family go through that. But I am a selfish person.
15. I am so alone.
Aug 25, 2014
Aug 25, 2014 at 9:18 PM UTC
Fleeting be the depth you preach.
Commanding the quarrel you've coated in softness.
Disillusioned by your mind as you cower to the
images you’ve sought to parent.
Hypocritical?
Hypocritical.
You’re fearful and pitiful.
Oct 6, 2021
Oct 6, 2021 at 2:43 PM UTC
You danced with me,
wrapped me up in your arms.
We swayed in rhythm with the trees blowing in the storm outside.
Sinatra, then Elton, then Armstrong, Chapman, ending with the words
“Leave tonight or die this way”.
I didn’t want to leave, I’d be fine to die this way.
A little hazy from cheap wine
and the winter cold.
Comfortable in the embrace
of someone who does not know all of my secrets yet.
Who looked at me and sees happiness and a clumsy dancer,
not damaged goods patched together by Lexapro and long naps.
I grabbed your arms and pulled you out with me,
out onto the porch and into the heart of the storm.
The sky lighting up with strikes of electricity,
so close we could almost feel it pulse through us.
I climbed onto your shoulders and you showed me the city.
I could see it through your eyes.
You looked up at me and
your eyes wrinkled at the corners while you smiled.
Your country boy grin tinged with
whiskey happiness and Johnny Cash pain.
I mirrored you.
Mine tainted with New England attitude and slight fear.
Fear for what I knew was inevitable.
That you would find the bottle on my bedside table
filled with little white pills,
those that would keep me from panicking in a situation just like this.
That you would find my journal covered in roses,
and filled with pages about boys with that same grin,
who had ripped mine from my face.
But your warm embrace melted that fear away.
How someone I had only known for days could bring as much solace,
I do not know.
But peace soon came from that smile filled with
whiskey happiness and Johnny Cash pain.
Dec 5, 2018
Dec 5, 2018 at 5:53 PM UTC
You are round, white,
and easy to break –
just like me.
Over-the-counter candy to cure
my sour serotonin syndrome.
You help my body become
a sweet, symmetrical poem.
You spell the words
Medication Management,
Adjustment,
and Patience
on the tip of every
neurotransmitter I own.
Oh Lexapro,
sweet placebo,
thank you for making me
dizzy with dopamine.
Thank you for changing my clock.
Now, I’m geared toward making it
To my next pill,
to my next refill,
to my next daffodil,
and my next windmill.
You are my daylight,
my daylight saving time.
May 9, 2022
May 9, 2022 at 12:02 AM UTC