Whose Choice is It Anyway?

Note: this is a poem formed from a story my friend told me about taking anti-depressants. I asked permission to write this poem and they said it was alright to do so. My friend had a different mental health doctor each time, which is represented by the three repeated lines with variations.

***

Here are all the doses you forgot to take,

the hubris of 'getting better' with the mask of never

finishing what the doctor gave you.

Here are all the tablets you chose not to swallow

down with water, you're better

now - or perhaps giving up on what this doctor told you.

Here are the new pills they gave you when they said

'it's going to be easier this way if you do...' and you did

whilst they stood by in grace

and took away your face

leaving you bleeding from the personality.