Someone handed me a note
to cure me from the Wild.
A fast and sure way to wipe away
the rage, righteousness, and courage.
Refills without expiration passed on to my tired mind
by a cascade of ancestral whipping hands.
An ancestry founded on deep pillars of perfectionism
in an ocean of self-loathing, abuse, and shame.
Each time I swallowed a pill
another wave washed over my soul's footprint.
Until one day, the waves crashed with the vengeance
that only the tragic death of the unborn can manifest.
And with each crash, I swept farther away from my pill dispenser
only to discover the messy and splendidly courageous soul I carry.
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