I thought I would self-medicate.
My bosom of depression, to deflate.
Chug down the drink, then a little more,
Until my feelings, I no longer bore.
My head fogged over, my senses dulled,
A calm of falseness, I was lulled.
My head grew tired, and my body was weak.
Words came out mumbled when I did speak.
All seemed foggy inside my head.
No longer can stand, I hit the bed.
Later upon waking, my head did spin.
The contents in my stomach hard to keep in.
A vise grip seemed to crush my skull,
Back and forth swayed vertigo.
I could hardly rise and meet the day,
Feeling close to death, -what a dismay.
Drinking was supposed to mend my soul,
But sucks me deeper in the black hole.
Drinking was supposed to mend my heart,
But now, my body feels ripped apart.
Next time I want to self-medicate,
I will not succumb to the chemical bait.
I’ll step outside into the sun,
Exercise, or go for a run.
I’ll take the power of what is inside,
Instead of using a substance to numb hide.
I’ll meditate and self-reflect.
Positive feelings I won’t neglect.
I’ll inventory all the good that’s around.
I’ll dig deep until happiness is found.
Next time I want to self-medicate,
I will not succumb to the chemical bait.
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Chemical Bait
by Stephanie Daich
