Author Information
Meds
i stand in this line of the forgotten
holding your gnarled hand
pleading quietly to be led
to a land of opportunity
but instead I am brought to the shadows
before the face of the wraith
that haunts my lucid dreams.
I slide and struggle forever
as he pill supposed to same me
hits the back of my throat
and dissolves my thoughts
into a murky puddle
of word salad and dead memories.
I know in my heart I'm a killer
of my own pride and joy
yet everyone tells me it is not my fault
as the chemical imbalance inside my soul
harkens to the days of old
when the insane were possessed
and the exorcist believed he
was the right hand of the almighty.
Yet they were wrong
as the explanation of my ailment was simply
a lack of hope
that love could be found,
