three days in
I have a throbbing perpetual migraine
a persistent cold
I’m crying over pointless things again
over imagined scenarios, all implausible;
I tell this to my eyes but they don’t stop watering.
irritable, emotionally fragile, all motivation dead -
that is what they'll put on my epitaph,
that is what the side effects are of attempting to extricate
yourself from either your chemical imbalance or your
unrepentant emotions’ alleged inhibitors.
I don't get times-of-the-month anymore, I don't have any demons
left to blame besides the ones already slain still lodged
in my mind, somewhere room temperature and suited for breeding, waiting for an
ill-trained psychologist to split my skull open and
suck out the juice.
150 milligrams of numbness are not a weakness and,
in some ugly circles, are actually a badge of courage,
so why is it that when I try to swallow no matter
how hard I clench my thumb or break them into little powdered pieces
it feels like lead in my mouth
and I choke and I cough
and I give up and say, maybe tomorrow but
first I want to see how long I can last