there was something I

had to do.

just one thing, but

I can’t recall.

                                 spark a joint.

palms clammy, holding a bay in my small hands

heart batting, confetti falling from stories high

hands clutching one another, vines braided on the cherry tree

dry throat, swallowing through sand paper

                                   have a drink. 

my mind derails from 

the words that sound

like honeybees

                                      pop a pill.

‘Look like you care.’

                                      stop.

‘It’s very simple.’

                                     stop.

‘Stop.’