Take a yellow pill,
numb a little pain,
feel a little change –
everything’s easy now.
I’m not me,
that is what I’ve been chasing all these years.
So I take another yellow pill.
Numb another feeling.
Embrace that internal change.
Forget the pain.
Disconnected from reality,
all the talk of getting well seems to be a fallacy.
I can’t stop shaking,
my world is shambles and I’m breaking.
I’m hypervigilant and nightmares have me scared.
But most of all I just hate that it feels like no one truly cares.
Difficult to know how to act when it feels as though you’ve been stripped of everything you once were.
So hard, that normality seems like a distant illusion – or maybe a farfetched dream of sorts.
To look in the mirror and see the face of pain, that is a soul crushing act, for you don’t see you anymore. Just a faint speck of you, masked by the shell of a terribly sad human being.
And when you spend so much time on edge in fight or flight mode, it’s almost impossible to feel as if you’ll ever be alright again.
I wanted to pour my heart out,
but the words were just too sad.
I wished that I could feel fine forever,
without a hint of bad.
I know now how naive I was to think that way,
for life’s not just about the good.
Great sadness can turn our lives around,
when there’s nothing else that could.