I Wore It in My Pocket, I Wore It on My Face

Broken
Broken, yes.
But not to be confused with
a broken record.
No, that's a different thing.

Pills.
Pills I thought could heal my
brokenness.
Empty bottles.
The pill bottles are empty
and I'm still broken.

SCREAM.
SCREAM, I thought I could
SCREAM, but I couldn't.
The pills didn't fix that.

The napkin I use as a
pocket-square reminds me of you.
I wore it in my pocket today.
I don't think you noticed.

The fear and brokenness
I hid in my heart
is visible on my face.
I wear it on my face.
You noticed that.

Are you my doctor?