pink plastic house a tiny journal

Read our FEATURED POET/ROOM OF THE WEEK Pillbox Sonata by A.S. Kresnak below AND ALSO VISIT THE ARCHIVE:

November 13th, 2019

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Pillbox Sonata / A.S. Kresnak

The illness leaves blank spaces everywhere.
I can’t remember what has caused me pain,
or whether I’ve had my doses for the day.
I tie a bow around the bottle, to remind me.

Prescribed
one that will work.
I’ll take the pills by dose,
by day, and someday soon I will
be well.

Be well. It’s the kind of blessing we don’t say anymore,
but we imply it, checking up on each other at the signs of distress.
It was all I wanted when I asked to be prescribed the pills
I knew would work: the ones that make sure I’m not
crying angry about the big things, the little things, the things
I remember nothing about but that they hurt —

Progression isn’t linear. Our history is full of blank spaces
because we don’t take action to remember them. Older people talk
like modern life makes us weaker. On the contrary: we have the pills,
the vaccines, the means to keep alive those who would have died
in the older days. I am sick. I could have died; but I am here,
and I am well.

The illness leaves blank spaces everywhere.
I can’t remember what has caused me pain,
or whether I’ve had my doses for the day.
I tie a bow around the bottle, to remind me.

Prescribed
one that will work.
I’ll take the pills by dose,
by day, and someday soon I will
be well.

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A.S. Kresnak is a mixed-race college student currently exploring their new state. They can be found on Twitter @askresnak.