Rancid Pill

10:32pm 07/24/09

I grab the cup of stale water beside my bed to take my pill.

I hold the pill next to my lips.

Breathing deeply wishing it was you.

I press it between the ruff of my mouth and my tongue.

Its bitterness seeps into my taste buds as I think of you.

I take a sip of water the rancid taste washes the bitterness out of my mouth.

I swallow and put my head on my pillow I close my eyes waiting for the darkness to envelope me.

As I wake the next morning over heated I sit up and reach for the thermostat at the end of my bed to turn it down.

It’s stuck it won’t budge.

I knew not to turn it up to ninety but I needed something to distract me from myself: something to distract me from you.

I lay back down wishing you were lying beside me.

I rest my hand on the wall touching it as I visualize your body.

I stiffen my fingers placing my nails on the wall threatening it to get away from me; demanding it not to be.

I lean forward and kiss it and turn away shamefully.

Am I still a child? How can I feel so foolishly? Why do I desire something that cannot be?