They said it would help me focus.
They wanted cessation of vices and rebellion.
They wanted to alter my mind-frame to theirs.
They said it would relieve my realism-
derived-depression and extract my extraneous thoughts.
They wanted to “fix” me.
They said my unnecessary thoughts would vanish.
Are any of them necessary?
This elixir would magically eliminate the second voice in my head.
They said I’d be “cured.”
 Dr. Psychiatrist recommended it after a three-minute conversation.
(Did you know there are two types of Bipolar Disorders?)
Dr. Psychologist thought it would be beneficial--possibly for herself.
She didn’t like my tangents,
or how I laughed how words to describe thoughts like tangent and tangible were so similar
yet both meanings are individually subjective.
I thought I was clever. She wanted to “fix” me.
Dr. Physician said to try it out, it’s free anyway.
He wrote the script and told me to think about it, ironically.
They wanted to “cure” me.
 They said it would arise concise thinking
while eliminating my tangents and overall,
it would enhance my writing.
They said it would make me happy.
They said my freight-train-mind and existentialist beliefs
were the only obstacles from reaching internal bliss.
They didn’t say how or where or when,
but I’d be “cured.”
I didn’t want prognosis or diagnosis or cures or stabilizers
yet, they said it would enhance my writing.
 After swallowing the tiny teal and egg-white capsule I waited,
thought my last wandering thoughts, so they said.
They said it was the pill to reveal my full potential.
In these minutes of anticipation of bliss and faux-recovery,
and the thinking of thoughts drove me mad.
They said I’d be “cured.”
 And then it was clear: everything.
I imagined my previous thoughts deleting
into an unattainable recycle bin forever,
The words and thoughts and rants and tangents tumbled together and progressed.
my subconscious and conscious thoughts
condensed in my newly “cured” mind.
 They aligned alphabetically, chronologically, and in categorized bullet points.
My next step in every aspect was clear.
This medication put a sharpen filter in my head
and everything was more defined.
 I was still cynical, but clinically “cured.”
 I’ve come to learn that society frowns on it,
it’s valued as currency to college students,
this Class-A drug medication given to children.
The limitless drug, the elixir of clarity, the poison of creativity.
They said I’d be “cured” but
They didn’t say I’d be infinite.
