Hardship

The Pill

If I have permission

to speak of your condition

… something left in a bottle sealed

on ocean’s spill of messages revealed

only to you; the rest of us elbowed

out of the way, the rest of us bowled

over when your pills were thrown

away, still in their containers. My phone
jarring as it rang, like a foghorn
announcing a certitude forlorn.
Torn between cajoling, correcting;
conversation akin to a gagging
on the revelatory pill

… of your careening will.

~ LCMH

 Also appears in "Next Line, Please" of The American Scholar:

 https://theamericanscholar.org/the-pill/#.WRxvhmWTRBY