Three little plastic tubes
Lined along the kitchen counter,
Orange and glaring
Against the floral paper
On the wall.

Since when did you need three?

You open your pill bottles
When everyone's left the room
So not to remind them
Of your mortality.

Your daughter leaves the room
Because she knows
And she can't handle seeing you
As anything but
Strong.

The guilt gnaws.
The fear builds.
The air's getting thinner
As the thoughts grind
In your head.

Pop
Swig
Get it over with
And get on with the day.