Poem -
The. Colour. Of. Time.
There. Are. Blue. Pills. In.
My. Head. With. Me.
Expanding. Out. To Eat.
My. Brains.
Filling. Out. The. Darkened.
Space.
So. There's. Not. A. Single.
Trace.
Of. Me. Or. Pain. Or. Angst.
Or hate. Or love. Or. Any.
Thought.
Reducing. All. My. Essence.
To. Less. Less. Than. Any.
Nought.
But. Tomorrow. I'll. Be. Me.
Again.
A. ball. Of. Lost. And. Pain.
So. A. White. Pill. Waits.
For. Break. Of. Day.
To. Wipe. Me. Out. Again.
M P 10/5/22
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Comments
Gulp. The periods create an interesting fits and start anxiety feel.
interesting idea!
It's good to experiment ...thanks John 😊
Pills can easily take over the reins on running our lives -- but sometimes they have to. This poem gives us a rare glimpse of what it might feel like to be totally reliant on those drugs. Hugs, dear Marion xx
I often wonder why prescription pills are socially acceptable and
illegal drugs are frowned on when mostly all anyone is looking for is to kill the pain in which ever way they can...not that I'm advocating street drugs but the contradiction as always fascinated me...same with psychic and psychotic...much the same thing but I suppose the difference is how much functioning is affected...I ramble lol thankyou xx
Is it still me or am i a chemical reaction to medicinal mischief preserving my "welbeing". Hmm better this than being preserved in a jar of fluid I guess. Sometimes i sense that i'm still here but the pain demands I resume the pills.
A statement on modern life. Remember the Roling Stones in 1960's singing about "Mothers little helper" pills.
I think it's probably three quarters of humanity that seek them out DA not just mothers any more lol...thanks my friend x