Uh-uhn

I don’t want to take any medication
I’m not anxious, I’m just bummed
Theres a hard black line between my illness
And knowing things are going down
Hill, rolling, dizzy, much too fast
Hold my breath and wait for impact
I always seem to dodge last second. 
I’d almost rather take the hit 
And get to rest, even if winded,
But, man, that fl/ight response just owns me
Nervous system, life controlla,
We think we run brain, body, world,
Until your cortisol takes over
I don’t even wanna talk about it
What I’ve wrought can’t be undone
I don’t wanna see the doctor's eyes
Full of confused pity for my silver tongue
Full of dull frustration as I answer all
Their questions with socratic sums. 
My stress builds and feeds my grief
That swollen mass compounding speed; 
that exponential track to greed
Always downhill, always faster
Farcical but manic laughter
At least delusions go down better

Gift wrapped in awful sunless weather