" Drowning in Blue
Pulled deeper and deeper
into the void,
I dig down
into my pocket,
find the capsule I stashed,
first beneath a flap of tongue,
then in a cave of fleece.
I hold it like a jewel,
the key to some magic
kingdom where only good
feelings are allowed.
Funny, but sometimes all I feel
is good. More than good.
Great. Invincible.
When Mama felt like that,
Daddy called her manic.
But why is mania bad,
if it means you're on top of the world, where
everything is white? Bright.
I wish I were up there now,
instead of treading water
in this damn blue hole.
This magic pill won't fly
me there. It will only take
me halfway, to what others
call normal and I call gray--
toeing a straight gray line
is all medication is good for.
Bad genes have doomed me
to seesaw, white to blue
and back again,
for the rest of my pitiful life.
And the thought of that
makes me want
to open a vein,
experience pain,
know I'm alive, despite
this living death. "
― Ellen Hopkins
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