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Pillbox

by Julie Adams


my pillbox dares me to
scheule living

with capsules that claim
what cannot be capsulated.

The red one, stares in defiance
shamelessly, it threatens,
burns my fingers upon sight,
like stolen energy
it is contained and solidified.

There is a fire in my pillbox
it ignites manic tendancies, they say

shame and guilt consume the bloodstream,
red inside and out, cheeks flushed--
Now I know, I am also a product of the times;

knowing better
while clinging to what is easier to believe.

But what kills me are
the "white" lies on the bottles,
little spoonfed viles of lies
like white lines of another kind

only more rampant, deadly, horrifying, detrimental
to modern minds in thinning times
gone mad

11/20/2004

Author's Note: playing with an idea, but just getting stuff out mostly...

Posted on 11/20/2004
Copyright © 2024 Julie Adams

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Lacy D Phillips on 11/22/04 at 04:29 AM

What a sweet relief to see that you still live and write! Your "playing with an idea" is head and shoulders above almost everything else I read.

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