Medicated Identity

Medicated Identity

A Poem by Kena Dawn Augustine

Swimming in your system,

Controlling inhibitions,

Grasping all the wrong

And chemically dissipating

This lurking condition…

 

Head spinning in all directions

To words

with senseless meanings,

All remain valid that your

Current state is intervening,

With your goals, dreams,

Just accept it, they say,

I have the authority

But no scepter to take your

Pain away…

 

You can try,

But try harder,

This chemically-enhanced

Substance will alter

Your mind…

Yes, a bigger image

will appear in the mirror,

miss your former self,

for unhappiness

is what you will find.

 

But then I can keep writing

Dose after dose,

Your mind hazy and comatose,

But your highs under control…

No room for misdiagnose,

 

But you just have to accept it…

Face it…

That you are subject to these

Drugs all your life.

You try to escape the prison

But too much freedom

Leaves room for destruction

And strife,

 

Your blood needs to be regulated,

Your brain needs to be medicated,

Your veins ache

 with loss

where only

Substance can sedate it…

 

I say that is not an answer,

But we have to

swallow down acceptance,

Just as the pills

We take day to day.

 

Medicated identity,

 

Because part of who you are

Resides in your condition,

Your mission?

To lay down submission

That there is no escaping

This demolition..

 

You have no choice

But to accept it,

And ingest it.

Metabolizing in your blood,

It warms you from head to toe,

But you still feel numb,

for you have no place to go.

There is no cure,

There is no helping hand,

No one who truly

 cares and understands.

 

Medicated identity,

 

Because part of who you are

And who you will be, resides

In mediation imprisonment

Although they tell you

You will be free…

 

Kena SunGoddess Dawn  2009

 

 



© 2016 Kena Dawn Augustine



Author's Note

Kena Dawn Augustine
Medicated Identity
This was written
when I was fed up with
Psychiatrists, and medications, and conditions.
It is a poem that had been held inside me
for a very long time,
and my frustrations boiled over.
I had to let my pen bridle
this fiery cauldron of emotions.
Psychiatrists are quick to
write slips and make diagnosis,
but what about the person?
The human in the condition?
Struggling with bipolar disorder since I was 21,
it’s a question that has gone too many years unanswered…



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I've been a fan for eight years. You still got it :)

Your knack for metaphor and expression of pain has only grown stronger.

Posted 1 Year Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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Added on July 15, 2016
Last Updated on July 15, 2016

Author

Kena Dawn Augustine
Kena Dawn Augustine

Seattle, WA



About
Writing is my catharsis, my way to bridle my emotions. I am an intense person and being an artist, I see life through a different set of lenses, and many can not comprehend my view on life. Kena me.. more..

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