I meet new people. I explain
my situation to them. I don't
hide the medication, I don't
crawl away when it's time to
take it. Dutifully I take one
pill every night, in hopes it
will help me get on with life.

Well this sorrow inside is
persistent, it doesn't leave so
easily. It take ahold of my lungs
and will not let them go until
my chest is tight. Sometimes I
can't breathe and then the
tears come fast and fall quickly.

I've taken these pills for over
a year. I took them to forget
him and I'm taking them to
forget the emptiness that slowly
takes over my body. My
ambiguity is becoming too
constant for my liking.

My viscous, honey-like pain
sticks to my veins and confines
what little happiness I have.
They have become the white
blood cell and happiness is the
bacteria that must be destroyed.

Without these pills, though, it
all comes rushing back. The
memories, the photos, the
laughter and the happiness I
once knew I could find. So
it's the lesser of the two evils.

It's like I'm broken, but they
won't fix me until I've completely
c r a s h e d.