Eat

To take the pills I’ve been asked to take
is to gobble up the words I never spoke
when I was still a good child
and had not yet given over my healing
for pink and blue and red answers
to the crucial questions
sitting in a cup.

To swallow those nuggets as if they were
golden apples or bites of the same
is to imagine them as beads
of nectar, crumbs of desires and appetites
unforced upon me but still longed-for;
to want them tender and pliable
and easy enough to swallow, even if false.

To eat my way toward satisfaction
is to fill up on unfamiliar foods and cravings
and then settle back with a burp until
the next meal and the next meal and
even the next, still wondering why
I am not filled in any way that matters
and still I can catch my hunger gnawing upon me
dimly in the dark hard center of day,
dimmer still in the core of the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
onward,
T