Zoloft

Let us talk about what makes me feel good.

But this time, I won't share it on

my therapist's green couch or

my psychiatrist's wooden chair

or to myself when I feel myself slowly start to slip.

You see, I am prescribed an anti-depressant.

And while that little pill makes me feel better

makes the pain look less appealing

makes my tears pause

makes the fog dissipate

and makes the suffering silenced,

I cannot say it makes me feel good.

Rather, the happiness comes from my strength.

For without me

this depression would not have a home.

But because of me, 

I have learned to manage the roommate.

One day I will have the whole place to myself

which is happy.

But because of my raw resilience,

I am happy.

This poem is about: 
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

Comments

Dtodd18

I understand this poem so well. I take Zoloft. :)

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741