Push Down and Turn

When you wake up and realize that your meds have forced you into a four and a half hour cat nap- You sit up and crack your neck. Yawn. Look out the window, and see how much the Sun's glare has weakened. You grab a glass of water and your pill box. Check the date against what is missing and what day your phone says it is. Because your mind is too foggy to trust. Because your doctor needs to lower your dosage. Will you survive that? Your thumb presses down on Saturday. Different shapes, sizes, and colors are audited as you're still trying to survey the logistics of moving any further. Maybe you should just skip to the end. Take them all. Tell the Sun farewell and cozy back up to a chemically induced facade, lit up by an endearing subconscious. Angels sing as you push down, and turn. Grab that last capsule and drift off like one of your rock star heroes that burnt out, rather than fade away. But you're just a burn out who wants to fade away. So you swallow your medicine. Lay back down, and wait for the encore. -James Kelley 2016