Nostalgia as an Addiction
Or, my memories often make me sick.
There are some pills that taste like
ash/ that absorb the moisture in
my mouth/ and form an anchor
There are some pills that taste like
every confession I've made at
3 AM/ there are some pills that-
Taste like fourth-grade mornings/
line leaders lead/ followers follow/
quiet in the halls please-
Some taste like recess in September/
There are some pills that smell like
book fair mornings/ fifty cents in
my pocket/ can't get no goosebumps-
So I settle for an eraser/ some pills-
smell like play-dough caked on
dimpled/ sticky hands/
And dollar store Barbies/ and
animal crackers/ like Elmer's
glue and Crayola/ there are some-
Pills that feel like stones in my
palm/ they chip my teeth when
I force them down/ They're
heavy in my stomach/
They sink me like a busted ship/
Perhaps these are just the side effects/
I will find myself on hand and knee/
vomiting every barrette and ribbon
that has ever been tied in my hair/
Every Happy Meal and blow pop
is looking at me with teary/ doe
eyes/ Yes, I think these are the side
side effects-
Funny / no one ever said there
was a warning label
About the Creator
DaisythePoetess .
Writing is my passion...
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