At Least They're Committed

He’s sitting across from me or maybe he’s standing behind me, I’m not sure. I’m breathing heavily wondering why I’m such a bad person and he’s whispering, “Shhhh, shhhh, shhhh.” I took, I took, I took half a pill and I’ve been good about taking the other ones twice a day but the problem is they are meant to quell the worst of my thoughts and block everyone else’s pain. They’re not meant to nor are they capable of making me like myself or want to be here. He can’t do that either. He only asks me to hold on. It will all be over soon. It will all be over soon.