At night the drugs wear off.
The chasm opens,
despair engulfs;
dark hands take hold.
How strange
this battered brain
relegated to rely
on pills and prescriptions
How strange
this stranger; me
who once stood proud
and disdained the very drugs
I now depend on
Bare, bereft
Worn and worried
Tangled and trapped
So very tired of nightly battles
At night the drugs wear off . . .