every night

I keep the hours tucked under my tongue.

Tight lips, hoping they will never come undone.

I keep the silence draped around me as a cloak.

Hiding beneath, hoping it will not tear and reveal what I am.

They say it's a choice because there are drugs.

They expect you to just swallow and be normal.

They want you to be numb so they don't feel guilty.

They want you numb to quiet the pain.

No easy way to live when the only choice is to be drugged and loved or none and done.

What was supposed to be unconditional is now altered by the imposition of being who you really are...fucked and unbalanced.

I keep the hours tucked under my tongue.

I bleed in the silence because I have to be numb.

I hide what I am because I don't want drugs.

And every night I come undone.

Reviews

[Carlos Lorenzo Estrada]

As a manic depressive this poem resonates with me because I abhor medication to help me with my malady. I find writing to be my preferred drug of choice when my mind begins acting up. Thank you for sharing your poem with us.

[AKhaus]

Thank you for sharing...