VENLAFAXINE

Nightmares so deep

You wake from your sleep
Three times

Before you're sure it's you,

Punching at the strife

Of foul phases of life,

Wishing you had a gun

Or a sharp enough knife.

And then you feel

That drip drip drip of pain

That soaks you like rain

In ways you can't explain

To the black dog at your heel

Licking wounds that might be real.

Your brain flashes lightning -

Nerve cells rolling over

And over and over again.

But nothing is brightening,

That grey drug washes away

Your smiles and your tears,

So you can sleep,

And drift into dreaming,

As a prelude to screaming

From your theatre of fears.