Help.

Location

Help.

Fights, screams, yells, sirens, ambulances...

No such thing

There is no help

Crying and yelling

Sirens and running

Nobody helps you

Nothing helps you

Overbearing, rotten 

Fucking convulsions

Twitching 

Seizure

Shaking 

Jerking

Epilepsy

"Sleep" she calls it

A profound, hurtful nickname

For such a twisted thing

Making calls to 911

It's all downhill

You can't go back up 

You're nothing

Nothing, but a prescription

Another number 

Another monthly check to your scummy ass doctor

Money to the evil neurologist 

And his consumptions

Just because he said he cured you 

Kicking, punching, screaming, sitting...

But he's only cursed you 

Sucked the life out of you 

Drained you

And your pockets too

"Till you were both dry

He took your job

Your license 

Your control

SHIT!

Isn't that what a seizure does in the first place?!

Why be that stupid cherry on top?

He says it's for your safety 

But it's not helping you

You have high ass expectations!

High fucking aspirations 

But you can't do you 

He doesn't care 

He doesn't even bother

He just says be content 

You're "lucky" 

You've been "cured"

Twitching, shaking, jerking, electricity...

Taking a prescription

THE REST OF YOUR DAMN LIFE

Is that really a fucking cure? 

It's more like a catalyst 

Starting up your death sentence 

Leading you to live a dull life 

Losing you to a "controlled" mind 

You're not there

Just a body

Standing near the wall

Let's hope he learns

Let's hope you learn too

Get out of her life

And out of her head

Quit being stupid dude

Help.

Y.B.

 

This poem is about: 
My family
Guide that inspired this poem: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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