Could you tell me what is real?
It is either the joy or the pain I feel,
and I am starting to think the darker side
is the true end of the deal.
I am only stable when these pills are able
to invade my mind to make me fine,
but at other times I am crossing the line
because I am so willing to destroy what is mine,
and that is only when there are no chemicals
drowning and diluting my head.
When this happens I am
begging and pleading to shred
the life I have created
for myself so far.
These supposed helpers I am swallowing
are made to stop me from hallowing
out my body’s worth.
It is just a problem they missed
at the time of my birth,
the one that I have where
my soul is always singing a suicidal song,
and my ears get exhausted from hearing it all day long.
My doctors insist
that my self-destructive tick has got to quit
because I am getting so fed up with
this daily bullshit.
They say it will if I just take my pills,
but I feel like their poison is enough to kill.
Those doctors and their books on the shelf
say that if anything is a threat
it is me to myself.