So many stories swirling in my writers pail.
held back by a gelatinous placenta of restricting numbness
a shield tempered by the dull thick blanket of medication laying on my mind.
Stab at it with a knife, unable to pierce it...
chemically induced sanity.
Madness has a sound, a rhythm, a pulse...a beat.
muted by the medication
like a junkie I crave the pull of the night
To drink the screams
...and vomit out the pain.