may 26, 9pm: CVS

like i say, i barely
recognized your face
when you toppled from your
shelf, caught up in yourself
crying for some food some rest
some piece of goddamn sanity.
your apartment's the down the street.

i guess you relented
from your eyes, they looked so glazed
though your hair maintained its
shape through all the crying
oh, the aisles look so small
next to an elephant this tall

how are you? i wish i knew
sometimes i think you're
crying down the room, it turns
out laughter but it
scares me nonetheless
twenty-one years and i don't know
where you live

you took your bottle
of magic little pills, so i
hope you eat your fill
and at the register you opened
up your eyes