I Don’t Want to Take My Medicine

I don’t want to take
my medicine.

I want to be able
to choose for myself
whether I’m frightened
or not.

But every hour
asks me,
‘do you think you need
your drug?’

It’s weakness,
that little orange bottle,
filled with
sedatives.

I want to be strong.
Normal.
Have a chance to be proud.

Not dependent on
tiny white pills.

I don’t want to take
my medicine.

But my body doesn’t care.

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