I told the doctor I don’t want to be issued Prozac
He guarantees, it’ll help the things, my future lack
I told the pharmacist, I had things I needed to get off my back
And with a smile, or a devil’s grin, I reached and took my sack

I told my friends, I’m sleeping well, though an insomniac
I tell them still, I’m up the hill, but I can’t relax
I take a knee, and pray to God, that was the climax
Both depression and anxiety yelling back at me to face the facts

© Delia Ross. 2019

Sidenote: I don’t really take Prozac but I could throw at you a slew of other prescriptions. Though I’m advocating for medical mary to be written for vets…because truthfully, it’s the ONE thing that works (and I feel less like ripping someone’s head off). If vets had access to medicinal mary, there’d be less suicides because big Pharma actually does make you more suicidal and so the propaganda and fear-mongering against that plant needs to stop *pops pill*

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