in a secret dresser drawer
is a purple sleeping pill
the kind that needs
no prescription to fill
she only needs
to turn it on
& with hardly any effort
for a wee while – grief is gone
nights when her sorrow
is too much to bear
she lights a candle
in her bedroom lair
makes her mind a blank
spreads her long legs wide
flicks that tiny switch
& slips her purple pill inside
it helps her on those nights
when she’s worn out from weeping
when her thoughts turn dark
cause she’s not sleeping
it’s much better than the tears
which leave her pillow wet
& at this point,
she’ll take whatever comfort she can get
she’d rather have
the human touch
but she can’t stand to be
around people much
“time heals all wounds”
they serenely say
“read your Bible” or
“I find it helps to pray”
useless words
in the light of cold sunrise
after another sleepless night
of desperation & unheard cries
she knows she can’t
undo the past
drowning in dismay,
she’s sinking fast
people grieve differently:
you never can tell
what somebody will do
to escape from their personal hell
if she needs battery-powered comfort,
then who are you to begrudge?
heartache does strange things
& you ain’t God, so don’t judge
copyright © 2017 KPM
