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deepundergroundpoetry.com
Empty Capsules
My hand to my mom’s hand,
The Xanax passed quietly.
My sister watches from the couch
Questioning what just happened.
She judges, then stops, then cuts
Through her thick skin to feel
The pain on her own terms.
I find her blades from time to time.
I ignore them like she ignores
All the empty Adderall capsules
Spread out across my room.
She ignores the rolled up dollar bills.
She ignores the empty smiles she sees.
My mom said it’s never too early for wine,
That it’s better to feel good than bad.
Hand to hand, again and again,
My family lives like this--broken.
The Xanax passed quietly.
My sister watches from the couch
Questioning what just happened.
She judges, then stops, then cuts
Through her thick skin to feel
The pain on her own terms.
I find her blades from time to time.
I ignore them like she ignores
All the empty Adderall capsules
Spread out across my room.
She ignores the rolled up dollar bills.
She ignores the empty smiles she sees.
My mom said it’s never too early for wine,
That it’s better to feel good than bad.
Hand to hand, again and again,
My family lives like this--broken.
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