I don't have a title for this one

Slam poem.

I've got my self-prescribed cure for sobriety
It says: Take liberally for depression and anxiety.
Side effects may include paranoia and a deeper low:
Paranoid ‘bout my stash, depressed ‘cause I’ve got no dough,
And trying to think my way out
When I can't think through the fog
Like a ghost lost in the rain.
If I can’t break this cycle,
I must hate my own brain.

Drinking my elixir my liquid lobotomy
It straightens my thoughts;
It dulls what's inside of me.
But how sane is it
To forget what you did
And become a child again
Each time you split your skin?
Every time I vomit,
I swear I’ll never do it again.
If I can’t break this cycle,
I must hate my own brain.

But does a slug to the head make you sane?
Shoot a silver bullet slug back a shot
Does a bullet to the head make you sane?
Does a bullet to the brain unmake pain?
Does a bullet to the sane
Bring peace to the brain,
From the head to the heart,
To the blood, to the rain...

If I can’t break this cycle

Author's Note

Ignore spelling
My portfolio can be found at asadowning.com

Reviews

[Richard McLin]

A good title might be "Bullet to the Brain". This is a great piece. I loved it and wouldn't change a thing, except I'd get a title. Wonderful, look forward to reading more from you.

Richard.