Nostalgia as an Addiction

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