my psychopharmacologist
it’s very possible that my psychopharmacologist
is stealing my words at night
it’s not the drugs
it’s him, my psychopharmacologist
when I’m sleeping he crawls through the window
through the cracks in the whining air conditioner
and he snatches them with his scalpel
I’m sure he has a scalpel
he’s cut the words right out of my head
sometimes I wake up
and I see him, but he says he’s not real
bullshit
give me back my words, you fucker
or I swear I won’t go to group in the fall
it’s a shame too because
he’s a pretty good psychopharmacologist otherwise
cute baby, good job
my first love had his second child last week
and all I thought while I looked at the photos was
does his wife know that I’ve seen his dick?
not recently, obviously
but, like, I did see it
it’s not a nice thought, I’ll admit
they looked very happy
I’m sure they’re happy
I’m happy
but, like, does she know?
cute baby, guys
cowards
to whoever stole my bicycle seat:
fuck you
steal the whole bike
you coward
About Deborah Pless
Deborah Pless is a graduate of Hamilton College and completed her Master's in creative writing at New York Film Academy. She has previously been published for her nonfiction work and currently works in youth mentoring and advocacy in Massachusetts.