I have a poem for you all today about something I’ve been struggling with on an astronomical level. It’s something that’s been hounding me since I first started on this journey when I was 16 or 17. Take a read.
Take it, they say, and I do.
It’s for the better, they say, and I pretend
to believe them.
But there’s no better medicine than human connection,
than walks in nature
where the fireflies conjure
and the Cougars roar.
There’s no better medicine than a domestic cat’s purr,
than a puppy’s head rub,
or the bloom of a rose.
But take it, they said, and I do,
for I understand the consequences of moods
that are self destructive,
that cause more pain than happiness,
that force me to believe
everyone is against me,
even as the evidence proves otherwise.
Two little pills will not dictate my life
but they hound my moral conscience mercilessly:
“You’re feeding the demon, Big Pharma,
going against what you believe in,
will that produce at the end of your life span
here on Earth?
You’re hurting your liver, your kidneys, your organs.
How will your heart feel after 21 years of torture
by two little pills?
Don’t you remember Prolonged QT,
or have you forgotten you’re getting a science degree?
It can cause a fatal Arrhythmia after prolonged use of anti-psychotics
and who knows this but you?
A psychiatrist won’t tell you,
a physician won’t tell you
and yet you take those two little pills
against your very own will.
This is all the voice in my head
the one that used to constantly want me dead.
Now he begs for me to save my life
by throwing away those two little pills
that cause me so much moral strife.
Check out this poem and more on my Booksie account here.