Shortly after my grandmother’s death
I looked upon her crowded shelf of pills
Thought about pouring a handful into my palms
Thought about pouring a handful into the aching empty places

I was left unmoored by the fragility of family
By the sudden rend of love’s security
And that was the first time such a concrete idea
Came into my head about a means to an end

I closed the cabinet door before I could make real
The possibility (impossibility) a mere reach
beyond my fingertips

I think of that self-preservation in tough times
I am thinking of it now