It’s a bottle of gin
Or a bottle of pills
One opens me up to the muse
While the other shuts me down
Gin and vodka have been
Nothing but trouble for me
Failed jobs
Failed relationships
Failed life expectations
But in the dim evening light
With a cold glass beside me
Creation flows like an eternal spring
The cocktail of pills keeps me alive
On the dreary days when I’d rather not
Dumbing down the world
So it becomes palatable
And somewhat tolerable
But I’m flatlined and numb
A personality drowning beneath the waves
Creation still locked in its rusty cage
A catch-22
A no-win situation
Swallowing them both is
Verboten
Nightmarish reactions
Become the norm
Not sleeping
Not eating
Not knowing what is real
And what isn’t
Wondering which intrusive thoughts
Will haunt me today
Outbursts of manic pressure
Alternate with crushing apathy
While parents, spouses and children
All shake their heads
As we get on the merry-go-round again