Errin

Twenty-eight pills.
Lined up neatly in four little rows.
The bright yellow of smiley faces.

Each day I take one,
After I pee, before I brush my teeth.
Lately it seems to get stuck in my throat.

Every morning I reluctantly choose
Not to pull a Carlos.

And try to forget
That in one swallow,
I delay the satisfaction

Of little toes,a fuzzy head,and a scrunchy butt,curled up on my chest.

originally published 1/06