Px,

Im sick.

Give me a prescription for what I need.

Tell me there’s a remedy to get back to being me,

Cause I’m a nut case about to crack,

About to wreak havoc on myself.

So doc,

Tell me you can fix it.

Tell me there’s a way to drain out this pain.

A pill I can pop to bring me back from these wretched things.

A machine that will erase all my memories and make me anew.

A surgery that will take this tumor, you call a heart, from inside of me.

Tell me it will work!

Tell me it’s a one time thing.

A one-step process, my “get-better-quick-scheme,”

Because this pain feels like eternity.

These bruises weren’t a one step process.

No, this is decades of hurt,

Decades of pain,

Decades of disappointments and failures,

Decades of trying to fit into a frame that was never designed for me.

So doc, tell me!

Please tell me you’ll take on my case!

Tell me I’m not a lost cause!

That I’m worth saving!

DOC, IM SICK!

This body has expired and is rotting from the inside out.

Can’t you smell my sadness, see my trauma, touch my childhood pain?

Isn’t my desperation payment enough?

Please doc, just fix me.