After I swallow, I hear no voices,
My only cure, I ran out of choices.
The demons were winning, I had no escape,
They messed with my mind and messed with my shape.
I die for an answer, how long will it last?
I keep getting trapped in my dreading past.
Two every morning, two every night,
A daily routine, is it worth the fight?
My tears have dried, I must admit,
But I'll lose myself if I ever quit.
The dose keeps increasing every day that goes by,
My brain is at peace if I'm feeling high.
I'll keep it a secret, they will never know,
If I fake up a smile and put on a show.
It's haunting to know I'll depend for so long,
On placing a substance every day on my tongue.
This is my reality, it isn't a drill,
All my emotions are controlled through a pill.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem