SHOWTIME!
Severed from my purpose, rotting, and barely reanimated
Without sleep or medicine I get ready, desperate for my appointment
Cataloging the blade at the emergency clinic
I find the mundanity hilarious, not because I want, but because I must
The stakes are my life and yet I'm just filling out a form in the contaminated waiting room
Am I awaiting my salvation, or wasting time on Certain Doom?
I score a 27, because I have severe chronic depression
I can't afford a real doctor's office, my mother's unfortunately jobless
And so now: We no longer have insurance.
About 15 minutes late they call my deadname, it's time to plead my case,
They're determined to tell me: "Medicine isn't necessary"
Doing their least to feign respect while they treat me like a junkie
I'm literally a child staring into the eyes
of a jaded middle-aged doctor, though underqualified
Trying to explain this necessity is not a lie
Why would anyone willingly subject oneself to these side effects, on which you've obviously never read?
And finally, after using all my spoons, I prove it: I win the pain Olympics, I feel humiliated
Sighing, I bow, America's "healthcare" system is Broken
YOU ARE READING
Poets Pub 2019 Biggest Competition Ever - Vol Two
PoésieWELCOME!! Please join us in our 4th Annual Biggest Competition Ever!! An 8 week poetry competition, for poets young and old as well as new comers or poetry veterans!