depression

Bottled Help

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Two more pills and another day complete. A whirlwind of medications just to stay standing on my own two feet.
A force fed mixture with only one single purpose and goal, 
Is my deadly cocktail that’s meant to commit encroachment upon my very soul.
Who am I, I don’t even quite know. Maybe just a shell of a human now with nothing left inside to bestow. 
Unrecognizable from the inside or the out, there’s no questions left, qualms or any doubts. 
The path of bottled help will keep you sane and subdued, but in the end it’s only the real you, you elude. 

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