The time I spilled my whole bottle of Xanax
on the floor of a Jersey Transit train,
and had to white-knuckle it all the way
from Patterson back to Manhattan.
It was like a tree suddenly shedding every leaf:
Exposed, shivering thing.
I remember a tunnel that went on and on,
windows turning black.
I wanted to stick my panic in the hole
in Your side, like Thomas’ finger,
let You swallow it away forever.
You suffered a darkness much darker than mine,
as if to say I love you.
Even if you never get better.
I love you.
Photo by Jonathan Borba on Unsplash
