Counterproductive Side Effects
swallowing a pair of sleeping pills
slowly, deliberately,
that unspoken question
unseen but perpetual
looming, cradled in the bottle
keep any thought at bay for the moment.
don’t toe that line tonight.
periphery haunted
half-closed, lifeless eyes
swollen, festering body
limbs in stiff akimbo
silt dust shadow
goldenrod pus
seeping.
seasickened, thrown to life
pounding, a reminder
the desperation with which I clung
burns itself beneath my nails
let my lips form the same words
pleating them into the fabric pillow.
again, again, again.
About the Author: Sarah Angstadt is a fledgling poet who lives to respond. She has work forthcoming in Disturb the Universe and Scavengers Magazine. She is currently pursuing a degree in English Literature in Decatur, Georgia.
Image Credit: Digitally altered version of “Iodine Supplements” By Mx. Granger – Own work, Creative Commons License: CC0
As It Ought To Be 
