Everybody knows somebody,
and somebody’s always got advice:
foods to eat,
drugs to take,
lifestyle changes we need to make.
Well, I’m doing all I should be,
I’m doing everything right,
so where’s that
you promised me?
Pretty soon frustration takes over
it’s easier to medicate myself anyway.
So I do, and then there’s poetry
and chocolate and sunsets and sleeping in,
blaring music through the headphones
loud enough to make me forget
everything for a little while.
I hide back here behind my coping skills
and mild rebellion,
watching as my friends fall apart
in the same way I am,
watching as we all
in different directions
from our only common enemy.