A Poem By Mud About Psych Ward Meds

Art by Erica Crompton

she sucks on her menthol e-cigarette

it tastes like the outside

desperation in a tube.

she turns her head from side to side

staring blankly all around her

taking nothing in

but nicotine.

a step forward, she’s at the counter


turn the page

a little paper cup,

with little paper pills,

plastic gulp of water.


it must be time for bed

this is how she keeps track.

doc, are they working, doc?

why don’t you have some toast?

am I cured yet, doc?

the little paper cup

with the little paper pills

is not easy to hide

eyes on you check that every pill

is gone

By Mud, an artist, writer and mental health campaigner.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s