Little White Pills

Wrapped in a blanket of endless cold, with no way out but those little white pills.
Me beginning, my ending, my refuge, my pain.
I hate them. I need them.
I slip one down my throat, and slip into oblivion.
Those damn little white pills!
Not a cure, just a quick fix.
They send away the anxiety like the wind whisks fallen leaves off the ground, leaving nothing in its wake.
Just an empty shell of who I am.
I look for other ways out, but what else is there?
I fear I will always be trapped in a bottle of little white pills.