do

i have two blue tablets
in the orange bottle to my left
in the purse with the flower print
and yes i probably shouldn’t start
childproof top break glass in me
and pull lever: so i do, like you

i have one pill i haven’t squandered
finger its score and wonder
in case of emergency
if i chew it when it all comes apart
will it kick quick enough for me
to numb the well-deserved panic

tonight: another embarrassed apology
waiting sleeplessly
the results of sublimation sealed
in an envelope the size of a human heart
what must you think of me
running my mouth off like this

i have a doctor’s visit tuesday
and i know she’ll say
it’s chronic but not terminal
like every other malignant part
of the person i reluctantly call me
not terminal but hopeless all the same

roll your eyes like i know you will
i could just ask for more blue pills
there’s got to be another way