poison
No one can see it, but I’m poisoned.
Every morning, I take my meds,
and as the pills travel down my throat,
I wonder if this is the only antidote.
When I sit alone in my bed,
pondering my own crippling thoughts,
the poison makes me ill.
Will I ever get this out of my system? I ask.
It lingers through my body—
from my head, deep in my brain,
to my stomach, where I get nauseous
at the thought of my own mental toxins.
Although I didn’t consume something deadly to make me sick,
the poison in my prefrontal cortex
might just be the death of me.
When I walk into a room, no one sees
that every step I take is intense pain.
For now, I’ll go to sleep with this poison
eating at my life
and hope that it doesn’t kill me.
I’m poisoned mentally,
but not physically.
Copyright © josie wynn | Year Posted 2026
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