The Happy Pills
By Gia, age 19, Florida
Sweet Designs Staff Intern
Sweet Designs Featured Writer
have your face imprinted on them, or so I like to think.
Maybe today, if you tell me that you need me,
I'll skip the dose.
Try to stop using them.
Scream your name in my empty bed,
you haven't slept here since the last time your clothes were on my floor.
It was too long ago.
If you lived with me,
Would the mailbox overflow with junk mail and would I see the sun?
The words from your mouth are distinct,
As I watch you second guess, 17 months of bliss.
Cluttered thoughts, how was I to exist without you?
Scream for me baby, you whispered in my ear.
Your voice changes,
More demanding, more aggressive.
I always knew I could get that out of you.
We don't discuss the pills,
or how there are some days when I need you
so much but I can't tell you.
A writer lost for words,
ironic much?
Your black comforter, pillows with no cases.
Take me away, take me there.
When I heard the sentence,
I wouldn't be crying if I wasn't in love with you
better than any tablet.
Believe me, please Cherie.
Come to bed,
Your muffled snore and how you pull me close,
Help me sleep better.
Tomorrow, I'll tell you,
Just how much I love you.
Maybe show you with an elaborate plan I have yet to make.
Shut the light off,
I'll get rid of the pills tomorrow.
