Yellow pills.
Bitter down my throat.
Sizzle in my stomach.
Spread to my veins.
Yellow pills,
That have me feeling,
Not like me.
But to stay in control,
How else should I satisfy,
These impulsive woes of vision?
Yellow pills.
Kind of hard to swallow,
All the wisdom that I'm lacking,
Packing in a pill for me to swallow.
Yellow pills,
Serotonin and dopamine laced.
But is this me?
Or is it better to be blue?
Better to be without,
You little yellow pills.
YOU ARE READING
Dim.
PoetryTired of trying to be everything. Trying to be perfect. Wrong paths and wrong people and missed opportunities. Am I letting my mental illness take over my life? A look into the mind of a BPD, Anxiety ridden woman. With no identity but her Panic. W...
