The Ceremonial Dropping Of The Pills

I was always so afraid to Walk around that corner

Many mornings I would stand in The living room, trembling near the Couch as the heat from The sun slashed through the bay window And crept slowly up my back

It seems I never felt anything Except for the heat on my back, Regardless of where I went

But if I stood too long, I knew you Would find me, and if I snuck back To my room, I knew you would find me

If I hid, you would find me If I told, you would find me

And so I would walk into the kitchen No matter how much I wanted to run away

"Here comes The Idiot."

Yes, always the idiot, I've heard my name before, and I'm Familiar with myself by now, Familiar in ways I try desperately to forget As I pull Ritalin from the kitchen drawer And fight against my nerves To keep each pill from falling to the floor

And every weekday morning at 7 A.M. As I knelt on the linoleum and cried inside I would tell myself

One day

One day I'm going to be stronger than him

But what would I do, then?