9.17.2011

Guinea Pigs Aren't Meant to be People, and The Demon Hole

by Anonymous



Medical science doesn’t know what causes this depression
But they keep trying to find out.
I am nothing more than their guinea pig
And I’m tired of being their guinea pig...especially cuz nothing works
I’m just a guinea pig, wanting to be a people.

Pills for this…then side effects from that…then pills for the side effects.
“Gee this pill works for umpteen million people, wonder why it doesn’t work for you?”
yeh? me too.
“This is the newest pill out...tests show lots of good results”.
The guinea pig’s hopes go up.
Like a good little guinea pig I take my new miracle pill.
Each day, if not each hour I wait and hope
Do I do feel better yet the guinea pig wonders?

Sometimes there is a “lift” and then the guinea pig feels excitement and hope.
But eventually the guinea pig hears,
“Gee this pill worked for umpteen million people, wonder why it didn’t work for you?”
yeh? me too.
Now the guinea pig is really scared cuz there are no new drugs...yet
But they’ve heard some promising tests on some new ones.
Even though the guinea pig knows how to run their maze,
It is really a dark and dangerous gauntlet…
Do they see how scared their guinea pig is?

Knowing the “fight” in the guinea pig is …going…going…
The guinea pig is not sure how long it can “hold on” for their next…new miracle pill.
Sometimes guinea pigs just aren’t meant to be people.
They just get “used up” and put out of their misery.
Lucky guinea pigs.


The Demon Hole

The hole…so deep...
dark…
lonely.
Fear!
Certain I won’t be found in here...
Afraid no one will even look.

Your depths are dark…
Writhing sides that are steep and
Scarred from scratching and clawing
Which ones were made fighting to get out?
Which ones by futile holding-on –for-dear-life plummets into your blackness?
I hear your hot breath…feel it…and start the white-knuckle grab for a handhold to stop this falling…falling…
Now you taunt my failure at life…sucking me under your control…I feel such deep sadness and alone-ness.

The hole has power
It licks at me with its evil tongue
Eager to swallow me into its hate-filled torture
Each slip into the darkness is more crippling than the last
Each tumble down into the depths is darker and lonelier than the one before
More isolation, more failure, more alone-ness

The hole is sneaky.
Once she clawed her way up to see some light
But it really wasn’t her doing it…the hole only allowed it…
She thought she had fought her way up and almost out…
The hole said, “Okay, just give her a glimpse, a little hope”,
Then with a snarl, and a long deep suck it swallowed her into its deepest depth...
It delighted in its possession and in her despair.

The hole tells her what to say, how to talk to herself.
Yes I’m a failure! If only I could just…why can’t I just…why don’t I just…WHY, WHY, WHY!
The hole whispers to others and coaches the others, to help it hold her in.
It tells them what to say.
“Aren’t you working yet?”
“Try another pill”
“If you just tried a little harder!”
“It’s just your attitude; you could if you wanted to”
“Pray!”
“Try taking a walk!”
“Hear, read this book...positive thinking is all you need”.
Slipping, falling, tumbling, her support system relinquishes her to the hole.
They are tired of her too, what else is there to do?

Demon hole… she surrenders to it…the pain of life…too great…
She hears it once again, the smacking lips and mocking calls
Darkness creeps in …down past the stench of its sick success, it envelops her once again.
Down…down…no fighting now…relief from pain…
No arguments…no more struggle.
So dark…cold…lonely...so…lonely.
Yes, this must be…what she deserves....She goes...