Poems.

Warning: May cause increased suicidal thoughts in teens and young adults.

I read the side of the bottle,
warning me of how I might die.
These pills are supposed to make me happy,
they'll change the way I cry.

But this is what I get.
Because I lied in therapy
they need a different method
of changing me.

Changing me
chemically.

It makes me sick,
and it's so hard to breathe,
just thinking about it.
They're changing me.

So I say no,
I don't want to go.
They can strap me down
but I won't swallow.

I promise I'll change,
I promise I'll try.
Or at least find
a better way to lie.

They don't understand,
I am who I am.
Depression and
anxiety included in that.

Disgusting, I know,
But I won't let go.
I don't want those pills,
I won't let it show.

So do your best
at changing me.
Suicide on the bottle,
and I'll never be free.