63 Pill Bottles

The pain in my chest

Paranoia arrests my rational thinking

I see their lights out of the corners of my eyes

Black shadows moving across the floor
I can’t help but check the locks on the doors and make sure the shades are closed
Helicopters incessantly fly overhead

They rattle my nerves just a little bit more everytime
63 pill bottles line the pantry shelves

What can I find to calm me down
Sleep is farcical

And death is no recourse

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