Pink Pills

Sanity was god in this old brick building

The pills made me sane, but only when I wasn't on them

They tasted of sugar, covering something much worse

The bright pink coatings shone in fluorescent lights

The voices in my head screamed in fear of them, louder then my brain could handle

The sticky sweat drops flooding my face as I hide the little pills under the rough mattress

As the night went on they dissolved into little puddles of acidic smell

I hated their loud taste, the pinkish way they felt in my throat

So Every Time Dr. Marion Williams handed me that little bottle from Wayne Tech Pharmacy I couldn't take the medicine to make me better

But I got better

Life was different on the streets

My puddin' would take my hand and at night we'd paint this old city red

And I loved it because I was miserable

The homicidal madman was really just a misunderstood child

The sharp knife of rage cutting out chunks of sanity one piece at a time

But the blood ran with delight, cyanide tasted of elation

When I was with Mr. J I could dance among the stars in skin so red all the world had to stop and stare

But his Little Harlequin could only dance for so long

And when I'm better I'll go back to him and say,

"I don't need your jovial torture

I'm better now, so I can't think like you anymore!"

And the little pink pills will apologize for being so vile

Because I got better without them