That Bitter Pill

bitter pill

one I take

one I hate

bitter pill

that sticks

in my throat

before I even

remove it from

blister pack

revulsion comes

before I touch

bitter pill

one I take

one I hate

it helps me

it mends me

but before

it soothes me

it ruins me

that bitter pill

the mere thought

the mere feel

the blister pack

the lab-born

solution to the

devastation

internal my angst

but

psychosomatic

the reflect/reflex

even before I

swallow it whole

twice

the acridity

the inevitability

I know I

need it

but still I

loathe it

that bitter pill

*

Thanks for reading!

Author's Notes: Poem. Self-explanatory, I feel? Aside from the negativity and stigma attached to mental health and anti-depressants, and the feeling that needing something to correct/heal/soothe something beyond your control, this is also a poem about how much I loathe taking the pills for the taste they leave in my mouth. The mere thought of it, when I know it's time, and writing this, was one of the worst things I've written in terms of my reaction to it. Thinking about it.

Here are other things.