The Pill

The pill there is to take 

To numb our fear of our 

Mistake in thinking we 

Should guide ourselves
Alone amidst a world of
Hurt as go we on into
The dirt.

And go we on our feeling gone
Not good, not bad, not anything
At all.

Over the sink I turn the light
Upon this face that shines
Reflects in time of things that
Know or should have known
But it's too late to go back now
The thing that's out will not go back
Into its box it's bottle knocks
Against my head my inner dread
That finds me here before this void
That peers at me and taunts and screams
It's me yew need
Not life,
Not God,
Not forgiveness.

Jim Hime ©2014