Lithium

Something about being medicated with
a Nirvana title makes me nervous. Visions of
unwashed hair; showing up early to the wrong
clinic; catching shadow frostbite with iron hands.
We are held between needles and numb.

They tell me it is for the best.
They tell me it is for the worst.
They tell me it will meet me in the middle
like a soft harmonic hum, like baby blue,
like half set plaster.

Maybe I want to crack the cast. Maybe
I want to mold slowly into my pillow or
suffocate in a feather oven. I spin like 33.3
on 45, like an unbalanced top-loader, like
Karyo syrup through a slow stir.

I want to fall to the ceiling, cracked but viable,
and wait for the winds to change;
eiderdown spinning the updraft.
They say this trip has only one ending.

~