Pills.
They clatter shrill on the table.
Poison inside of medicine.
Curatives that can only harm.
Pills.
The thought slowly fills my head.
Capsules full of sorrow.
Is it possible for this to end.
Pills.
My mind is begging to be killed.
I have dozens of prescriptions.
Containers full to the brim.
Pills.
My body lays cold and still.
Drugs become my blood.
My misery is done.
I have my pills in my hand.
I can't understand.
How such any easy thought,
Is constantly fought.
Pills.
YOU ARE READING
Twisted Poetry
PoetryOne of my first creations on Wattpad! I started this a while ago, and have since then completed it. I have fairly moderate content inside this publication, which is surprising based on how messed up am. Back then though, I wasn't as capable of commu...
