Ode to Medicine

Sunday Reset | Lily Kolakowski | Painting

Ode to Medicine by Emerson Delfin

Transparent orange bottles fill her bathroom cabinet, 

Her rippling glass of water on the marble countertop,

Divided into her ocean blue weekly case, 

Did she take them before or after she brushed, 

Her hair, such a forgetful girl needs fixing.

Sweeping out the old attic every morning at 7:05,

Spring cleaning as she swallows the bullet

Summer and sun dance along the yellow brick road

Down to her blood stream, flowery yellow and earthy green prozac, 

O´ what natural colors for the only cure.

Medicine gets rid of those thoughts,

The ones gorilla glued to her frontal lobe,

The quicksand turns to mud, no need to willingly dive in,

She finally can take off, that rocket speed heart rate slows, 

Breathing finally steady, stress balls and fidget toys smooth sailing now.

Medicine gets rid of that helplessness,

Like a child back on the swing set flying forward,

full speed ahead, suddenly thrusting back the next day,

She can shovel the snow that used to lock her inside, 

Prescribed the key to the light.

Medicine gets rid of the counting to 12,

Doors shutting 3 times, the radio volume going up by threes,

O´ finally she can make it through the day without,

A bomb dropping, a brother dying, doomsdays coming,

She washes her hands of that karma blood stain.

Medicine gets rid of the need to appeal, 

To a society who never wanted her, 

She stops playing that horror game she used to, 

Hide and seek from nutrients and carbs, 

The dark side of her brain dries up.

Medicine dumbs it down, silences the constant radio chatter,

Black and white static the remote was broken the batteries scattered,

She couldn't power down constant subjective narration, 

Medicine makes her shut up, everyone finally got what they asked for,

Downing, diving, drowning pills.