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There's only one way to get worse.
by Aaron BlairDoctor, I need a new me.
Is there a pill for that and can you
drug me until I'm distorted
and I turn into something else?
I've asked you a million times to fix me,
but I never asked for a fix.
I always kept my hands behind my back
so you wouldn't be able to read my arms.
I didn't present an upturned palm
to the prescription pad and pray
for chemical absolution, a miracle on my tongue.
Now I will. I'll put my faith
in medicinal clouds fat and heavy
with the weight of the cure.
I'll let you make me better because I know
that there's only one way to get worse. 08/08/2010 Author's Note: Long story short, I have always evaded discussion of and/or outright lied to my doctor about my mental issues and now I have decided to come clean in order to join the medicated masses so I can become anti-depressed.
Posted on 08/08/2010
Copyright © 2024 Aaron Blair
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Morgan D Hafele on 08/09/10 at 09:13 PM that's a tough step... i've never been able to bring myself about to talk to anyone about my issues... just finding other ways to self medicate. |
| Posted by Andrea Colton on 08/09/10 at 10:23 PM I liked the directness of your poem. Didn't have to read through the lines to understand and comprehend where you're coming from. And good luck. Hope you find relief. Hey, being anti-depressed might not be so bad. :) |
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