Sparkle, sparkle.

Martinis in a bathtub, cause the clean up is easier, varied pills on the shelf, most designed for the pain, but I claim they are for my health.

Aches and pains, daily strains, have a little more. Some days I’m in a haze, but that’s what the pills are for. When life gets too serious and I’m looking at the door, and getting up and breathing seems like such a chore.

One pill makes you smaller, one pill makes you big, this one is for the days where I feel like a pig. It doesn’t help with weight loss, but impacts memory, that way I forget what is bothering me.

Anxiety and depression, each have their own rooms, Manic and desperation visit too often and too soon. I wish that I could charge them rent as often as they are here, but when I need someone to talk to, everyone disappears.

Should I call a hotline, perhaps for addiction, or should I take another pill, to ease my new affliction. Having been down this road, loosing all control, feeling only half of me, wishing I was whole.

The world looks thru the keyhole, never seeing the whole scene, where I am, where I was going, and never where I have been.

I woke up in the hospital, wondering when I arrived, poking myself with a finger, to check if I’m alive. I say I need something for the pain, don’t you comprehend, quick give me a fix before reality starts back up again.

If you find your way to wonderland, having fallen down the hole, looking for something to make it better, to repair your soul. Don’t drink what says drink me, don’t eat what begs and pleas, or you will find you are rooted their, dropped to your knees. Stand and keep on walking even if their seems no end, for at the end of the chosen road, know you will find a friend.

Someone to help ease the load, lift the cross you bare, yes know when you scream in the dark, someone will be there. It’s always darkest before the dawn, and the tunnel doesn’t go on forever, eventually the sun comes out regardless of the weather.

Although the storms seem to rage, and your soaked to the bone, the clouds seem black and malicious, but you are not alone. For I have been down that path, and made through, I admit, it was not with out my scars to show, but I crawled out of the pit. I found fields of grass and sun upon my brow, knowing I could be myself, my life would start right now.

Poet, published writer, artist Native to NC, enjoying coastal living. Decent human being. Grateful. Dwindsorprice@yahoo.com Windsorstudios@wordpress.com

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