Nov 14

november pills


it's a reprise of 
my adolescent thoughts
ones i had pushed away 
ones the little capsules of 
blue and orange had suppressed. 
but those capsules sometimes 
stuck in my throat, 
melted there.
they let out their poison against my flesh 
and burned against my voice all day. 
this is a pill i have failed to swallow. 
it has melted after eight months 
and i am now feeling the poison. 
i don't want help,
i don't know if i even need it. 
i can't make sense of my thoughts 
and i can't figure out why i let myself be happy. 
every time i manage a smile,
let my guard down, 
let myself think 
'this is the time when i am finally at peace'
i am awoken from my dream 
and forced to gaze upon the terrain in front of me. 
full of decomposition and never ending headaches. 
come 
back 
to 
me. 
please. 
About the Author: lila woodard
'But to make yourself feel nothing - so as not to feel anything - what a waste!' - Andre Aciman, Call Me By Your Name
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