Bless Me O Doctor, for I Need More Pills


My medication which rested in plastic tabernacles
with a million compartments of dark neighborhoods
witnessing funky rituals after sleeping through lazy

weeks of communion before slipping down the gullet
has dissolved into drowsy synapses, awakening them
to help me get through the day’s haze and the night’s trickery.

So today I sit alone in front of you, gazing down
at the confessional of the morning screen.
My impatient mouth opens wide as a searchlight

murmuring secrets and prayers with a tongue
sharp as the edge of a whip against a stick of gum,
amidst gold fillings attached to roller coaster moments

which shift in an instant from bright diamond dust
falling into the chalice of paper cup euphoria
to the toothpaste blue of melancholia.

Bless me O doctor, for I need more pills.
Absolve me of my mood swings.
I wait for the miracle to stimulate and calm my brain

so I won’t become the demon queen of howling
ex-saints clinging to rosary vines over veils of
confusion and hell, wondering how I got here.

~ by dianeklammer on February 20, 2013.

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