Dear Poetry

The Unspoken "Savior"

I once saw a girl,

A terrible looking girl,

Inside the doctor's office.

She said to the man,

"Hey I really need some pain killers, 

You know the really good ones."

But this girl didn't seem to be in any physical pain.

She went on to say,

"My pain isn't something you can see,

It's nothing like a broken bone or torn ligament,

Not even like a sack of cancer cells.

My pain is something so inevitable,

I live with it day by day,

Sure you can give me pills to pop,

But they don't help.

So I'm asking you please, 

Give me my devil, 

My savior,

My taker,

Give me my black beauties,

Let me stop feeling this pain I've been feeling for way too long,

Make it stop,

Make it end."

She knew the consequences when she asked,

But still she begged,

Disgusted looks thrown her way,

Shamed she walked out the door,

In hopes to find her savior,

Her devil,

Her taker somewhere else,

So she roamed the streets in search of her drug of choice.