"Doctors/Dealers"

I’ve never been good at sleeping.

As a child, I would worry;

As I am now, I am haunted.

These days I’ve given up trying to rest.

I do not eat

Anything except the pills they give me.

I settle for medications,

And restless meditations-

Provoking unnerving mediations

And sacrilegious deviations

From my predestined path of maturation.

Resulting in wisdom, but bodily devastation,

Yet the slow death is worth reborn realizations

And self-actualization.

And ultimately, self-desecration,

To spite my creation.

It pumps in my veins

And it crawls up my skin,

Sending shivers all the way through my intestines;

It is what I cannot see in the wind.

I neither hate it nor enjoy it;

It is what it is;

And what it is is nondescript.