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They Called Me A "Disorder."

They Called Me A "Disorder."

Ulises Vargas 

October 3, 2025. 


Is it not 

A clever lie 

That my sleeping pills 

Siphon the life from me, 

Promising to return 

A stable, carbon copy?


The first morning, 

I should be groggy 

And sedated 


Then, by the thousandth, 

Should I look in the mirror,

Not to recognize 

The null face 

Where I used to be?


Is this the price I pay 

For being different 

In a conformist society? 


Does the handful of pills,

Once at bedtime, 

Cost less 

Than the struggle 

Of dealing with myself?


Was I ever the problem— 

A divergent personality—

Or could it be 

That you all, and my environment, 

Were to blame the whole time?


Can any medication

Make the world okay? 

Or need I be pacified, 

To force me in-line?

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