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03/01/10. A reminder that there is a fine line between control and despair.

A vociferous voice urges me . . .

"Don't stop until your catatonic.

Swallow the pill, take a sip,

And then swallow some more."

What once sufficed no longer does,

So I ingest a couple more.

Like a junkie, but justified,

Needing it to become whole.

"It's just a little more of a fix

Than I had taken before.

A little more than I needed before . . ."

Reason contradicts addiction

For it is an affliction

Without reason or rhyme

Hidden even from hindsight

But that's alright

"It was just a little more

Than I needed before."

A little more than I wanted before."

Bottle rolled off my fingers

Onto the floor.

Reviews

[Sweet_pale_cacophony]

This is written very well...and i like the construct or the format of the poem...