By now it's a drill,
Pop in a pill,
Each night before bed,
To calm that head.
That body has changed,
Some functions deranged.
Those fleshly desires,
For months have retired.
A staple routine,
Noradrenaline,
Serotonin,
High doses intervene.
In the quest to suppress,
Every ache in that chest,
In the quest to prevent,
Recollection of events.
In the quest to anaesthesise,
The pain of knowing she was used,
In the quest to not comprehend,
Why she didn't see it beforehand.
In desperation to forget him,
Like how he never remembered her,
In desperation to never repeat,
Her dangerous surrenders of ultimate defeat.
Suicidal histories in her past,
Don't ever return!
Let those pills help her get past,
That the real her may return!
Ah, I love this. I like how you started, 'by now it's a drill, pop in a pill' It sort of sets the theme of the entirety of the poem +10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
harrowing, but definately makes it's point, well done for not being a slave to strict rhyme. great poem