Seroquel

Fifty milligrams before bedtime every night

I am not allowed to say, “Nay”

Drift off to sleep, feel alive in the morning

Go to work with anger a-flowing

That’s my friend, Seroquel.

The doctor said, “It will help with your mood.

Zoloft was not right for you.”

I become an angel in the night

Then I turn into a demon in the day

Thanks to Seroquel.

Loathe people, ignore their voices

Disregard their advice, follow your choices

Open your eyes, greet the sun with hatred

Clench your teeth, should they dare to tread

Said Seroquel.

Drastic changes in my chemical make up were made

I wanted the side effects to fade

No more, I said, but they ignored my plead

Twenty-five milligrams before bedtime, then see what happens

Fucking Seroquel.

Sleep was still the same, but the anger wasn’t there

I slept like a god in the last two nights

I was meek as sheep in the last two days

I did well lately, emotionally and mentally

Thank you, Seroquel.

And today, I awoke

Like dawn, my feeling of loathing broke

Fifty did not do it, neither did twenty-five

I am exhausted, I probably should just die

What the hell, I thought you were my friend, Seroquel?

–Sarah Montenegro

Sarah is an NYC professional by day, a writer by night. She writes horror and tragic stories, and sometimes, about past lives. Recently, she tried dabbling into poetry. You can email her at stsyrlin@outlook.com and you can check out her short stories at sorenlysander.wordpress.com.

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