little blue pills, little red lines – a poem

little blue pills, little red lines,
everything that happens, becomes verses in the mind,
trying to make sense, trying to find a rhyme,
trying to do it all, and failing every time.

failing at friendship, always fails at love,
cold ground is below, no comfort from above,
nothing ever fits right, never like a glove,
illusive happiness, is nothing to speak of.

these little blue pills, they help be one’s self,
if only these feelings, could be stored upon a shelf,
these little red lines, they make one feel alive,
not knowing where to go, but helps to start to drive.

little red lines, trying to reach the soul,
a habit from the past, a badge that can be shown,
a darkness inside the wound, ugliness that’s true,
a place that feels rotten, monstrous if one knew.

little blue pills, they change the course of life,
the hallow becomes filled, easing of the strife,
purpose starts to form, but slowly at it starts,
tracing the same path, to reach inside the heart.

little blue pills, little red lines,
slowly it begins, the lengthy, painful climb,
a pit one must escape, a pit inside the mind,
progress can be made, only one rung at a time.


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