Teardrops And Saliva

My hands are wet with fear and my stomach is rotten with despair... the saliva in my mouth is thick as if I had just dropped some acid. I was I had that false security now... I am weighed and weightless at the same time... a heavy heart and nothing to keep me rational tied to the ground. I have already taken my medicine twice... the magical soldiers I was promised could help relieve my weary mind. Nothing. It's the same as it would be if I had eaten shit... which I have done on many occasions. I turn inside for comfort and I am greeted with disdain and mockery. I go the the corner to shake it out and I am disturbed by the people walking within these walls. I curl up with my cat and he offers nothing but a paw and a sigh. I look to the window... I want to jump. I go into the kitchen to grab a knife and cut myself free... free from all of it and all of them, everything. I see the amber bottle of medicine and I begin to weep... take more, take often, take more, more. All I can do is wait... when my body crashes, the mind will soon follow. I cry and gasp for the air that never comes... all I can say is simply, why?