***
they say they’re stronger than you.
they won’t let you wear them down.
i’m not strong.
i can’t will you away.
i unhinge my frontal bone
pour six happy pills in
and listen for the “ping” sound they
make when they reach the deep end of my sadness.
i don’t notice them say
they’re stronger than cancer
or pneumonia, but you,
you’re nothing that a night at the bar can’t cure.
i’m not strong.
i let you ride on my back.
you’re the reason for that weary
stare at the ground shuffle i do.
sometimes, i go to the cliff
an hour away from my house
and dream of throwing myself off
to get rid of you
but i’m not strong enough for that either.
–lissa
