Poem.

It's just a pill,
so what's it matter
if it's tumbling down that rabbit hole
that is your throat and into a pretty world
where the flowers sing their songs?
I mean, really,
all it is a round white thing
and it's going to make you better, right?
It's going to fix your everything.
Just like I couldn't.
What's it matter?
It's just a heart.
I didn't need it anyway.