Rx straddles the ledge

Rx straddles the ledge

of the countertop

His hand shakes as he reaches

Rx drops

He screams

as the glass splinters

all over the floor

and into his foot

the droplets of life

now mingled in with the dirt

from inside and out

holes punched in the wall

of the kitchen

where he can no longer feed

without those tiny droplets.

What good is the dirt?

 

 
For a life that is so fragile

soft and precarious

so dependent on these molecules

and conversations

and circumstances,

it sure as heck

feels weathered

and hard.

 

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No Rules Poetry

What would have been?

Wonder

What would have been?

if the right provider

had asked the right questions

and I’d replied honestly

all those years ago.

 
“Why is your blood sugar chaotic?”

“Because life is chaotic…”

Firm, and to the point

the question and the answer.

And the response?

 
Or if the nurse /

who connected me to the doctor /

who helps me to stay afloat now /

had been my nurse then /

and she’d been my doctor.

 

What would have been

What is

What will be

Still swimming

 

 

No Rules Poetry