Paxil is a Pink Pill

Depression is not new
To me: the demons settle comfortably
Into my cloudy mind
And brain, gently draping
My shoulders with the burden
Of their chains. They veil
My eyes and dam my ears
And lock my tongue
So I won't complain. They work
From within: rending
Silver linings, freezing
My love, stealing
My smile, hiding
My hope. They sow
Desperation and desolation.
Then, with my inner light,
They cast their shadows
Onto the ground before
Me, until I withdraw
Into dimness and despair
To escape.
They play hide-and-seek
With my thoughts, peek-a-boo
With my soul, and patty-cake
With my heart until
The only way to exorcise
Them is to cut them out
Of my body, butchering
Myself.
But Paxil is a pink
Pill, a good pill, and it
Neutralizes
The hellish light of the demons
Until they flee,
And then I'm left
With only
Me.

Imagination(poem)

Locked in my cage, I stare at the emptiness;
this very emptiness possesses my soul -
we are one.

The months pass, as do the years,
yet as time progresses, it loses all relevance.
I sit here trapped in a recurring nightmare, never to awaken.
I feed on my own self-pity -
I never hunger. I merely exist,
captive in this asylum, biding my time;
my sole gratification, inebriated isolation.

The door to my cage is ajar, as is often the case,
yet it's pointless to leave;
each journey leads me back
to this God-forsaken realm of suffering and despair.

Long ago, I was free;
I remember faces, smiling faces.
A different me, in a different time -
it was a time of fulfillment, of togetherness, of love.
Then one day the fantasy ended, and I was here . . .
but enough about the past; I must face my reality.

Distant voices race through my head,
as I stave off insanity.
But this time, the voice is real.
Unsure of its origin, I feel my soul is not as cold; my burden lighter.
Though I smile, I soon shiver in frustration.
Tears stream down my cheeks,
as I cannot deny that the other voice is my own,
as my rationality succumbs to my imagination.