put the pills back, and the bottle, and
shut the window.
down in the bottom of the silverware drawer
with the packets of catchup and soy sauce,
there’s a little hope.
if you don’t find it look under the fridge
with the filthy bouncy balls
and school schedules.
or in the closet with the iron
or in the hair filled sink drain.
it’s in here, i promise.
it took me decades to find it.
it’s better than a lost heirloom
rescued from the heating grate,
better than the candy someone hid,
better than any lucky penny.
you are trapped starlight
and generations of prayer.
your suffering does not make you
beautiful. you just are.
pick up the phone,
let someone come help you look.