Mr. Doctor Boy,
not quite man,
Can you show me
how to change the chemical composition of my brain?
Can you take authority
and claim to know how to cure me?
Mr. Doctor Boy,
Didn’t your father teach you
how to arrange dopamine and serotonin
in the correct orders?
Tell me of noradrenaline,
help me understand,
Mr. Doctor Boy,
be a man and fix me.

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“What’s Wrong”

This was not meant to be an elaborate, descriptive, beautiful poem. It was just meant to be real.


I’ve been trying to figure out how
to describe this to you for so long.
It was only after a million “I don’t know’s,”
that I realized you can’t explain it,
you just have to understand it.
And even those who understand,
may not comprehend it enough to
tell you how it feels. All I can say
is it is not pleasant.