Limitations (of the Medical Model)
Hormones and synapses, chemical reduction,
Swallow down backwash, bitter little pill.
Am I nothing more than simple deconstruction?
Blister packaged coshes keep the voices still.
Body and soul, I’m all in this – together,
More than just components, product of a brain,
And, whilst I applaud science and endeavour,
A seeking, slicing scalpel would look for me in vain.
Leave me rest, now. Let me find my feeling,
Do not drug me sober; don’t drown out my light,
Let me laugh and cry. Please. Let me find my healing,
Don’t tie my hands with tablets in this fight.
In synchrony of spirit, flesh and bone,
I’ll seek solutions, ones to call my own.