my eyes scan the shelves

searching, searching

bottles, chewables, capsules, drinkables

I don’t like the way my hand feels

grasping, tense

reaching for something, anything

now, now

I want it right now

to help me sleep at night

to quiet the spinning in my mind

to let my throat breathe right

to close my eyes against the storm

that’s brewing, brewing

raindrops breaking on my skin–

what is this feeling, that I do not like?

the word comes at once, summoned

desperation

and I draw back

curl my empty fingers tight