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