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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Cultural · #1353379
What you don't know could kill you: details at 11.
Wrote this when I was feeling a little like drugs were controlling my life; and not the ones you usually hear about destroying lives.


I close my eyes to a sleeping pill darkness
and dream the melancholy dreams of a
mind clouded by Vicodin.
When I wake, my eyes blur;
I reach for my prescription eyedrops
and begin the day with a draught of
anti-allergy medication.
My penicillin awaits for the infection
caused by the anti-depressants.
Halfway through work, my stomach acts
up and down go two anti-diarrheal and
and ibuprofen chaser.
Home for the day.
A shot of cough medicine and some dinner.
Another couple sleeping pills,
Down and out for the night.
© Copyright 2007 Bjorn Edvardson (zarathustra19 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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