The Bag

The bag sits the corner of my recently deceased sister's room

The bag full of pills

Full of drugs

The bag that kept my sister all drugged up 

It treated her like a wildly untamed bear and tranquilized her 

Except you tranquilized her life away

The bag that kept my sister sleeping all day

The bag that my mother tried to save her from

The bag that made her not even human

That made her lifeless

Just because she was different didn't make her less human that me and you

She was more human than any person in this room

Her autism made her a better being than anyone

But that bag made her fade away

That damn bag

That bag that they hand out to autistics around this state

Because doctors prescribe





And it equals to money in their bank accounts as long as you're breathing they don't need to worry

Is your prescriptions gonna fix what you have done to my sister?

How you didn't take care of her?

You thought you took care of her didn't you Dr. *insert name here you know who you are* 

You didn't 

Just like you don't take care of you other patients

Because mental health doesn't matter

Because physical health doesn't matter

These people who are different than you, you treat like animals in cages, lock them away if they "misbehave" 

They ARE people

they are people

These people deserve to be heard and helped in a way that they can live and prosper

They are instead hushed and numbed so no one can hear their cries

So they don't continue and you get more money playing doctor

Deciding everything is fine

Well it's not fine


And thanks so fucking much for never making it fine again

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This poem is about: 
My family
My community
My country
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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