The White Pill

The way my mind works some days. Not following any particular rules of grammar.

So many words to say
Yet I'm still unable to speak
"You're stronger now" they tell me
Yet inside I still feel weak
Growth isn't linear
"Your time will come" I'm told
It's easy for success to preach
But for me it's getting old
Everyday I wake and walk
Straight to the medicine cabinet
"This little white pill will help"
Yeah? But well, why hasn't it?
My demons are proactive
They've tricked me into being a friend
Darkness still resides in me
The pill teaches me to pretend
These feelings I hide inside
Are crying for their release
If someone would just hear me out
Then maybe I could find peace
An emotional fire is burning
Consuming all of who I am
But as long as I can play pretend
Then nobody gives a damn.