October 3, 2012


Each wave
washes over
my so-called heart.
This drug helps,
but still,
I wake up
falling apart.
Side effects
always take me
by surprise.
I may improve,
but suspect
I won't survive.
Everyday objects
fill me
with despair,
I see you're
no longer there.
Life's absurd,
and there is
no divine cure.
Our lot is
to endure.