Just Like Mom

Just a little more
coniine
this time.

Adding to it
hyoscyamine,
but no frown.

This dream I had,
just like my mom,
strung out on psychology,
beaten by brain chemistry,
all wrong again,
maybe I'm all wrong, too.

All the words you said,
all the songs I heard,
every phrase I recognized,
and every mood I mirrored,
was I wrong?

"Can somebody please
make me not believe -
Or tell me I'm right?"

No romance here,
just simple escape
from my mentality -
just like my mom
and her many attempts
to get out of life
for all the same reasons.

Coniine in high doses,
hyoscyamine if that
doesn't work.

Tap a nail on the vial,
but put it away,
because I still wait
to see if I was right,
and life was more
than I ever thought
and all those words,
all those feelings,
they really were
all mine.