By E.A. Hollifield
Excuse me, ma’am-
do you have a pill for heartbreak?
I’ve searched through the aspirin and cough medicine
Through Tylenol and heartburn relief
But there is no pill for heartbreak
I’m sure it can’t be that expensive
Just one little packet of pills
That can take all my failures and all his failures
Make them fade away to nothing
Coat the memories with a nice fuzzy blanket of artificial chemicals
I don’t care if it’s organic,
Don’t you have something?
Surely scientists have found a cure for this
A miracle drug for all the thousand little ways
That the pain grinds on and on
In the stories, grand passion ends with a bang-
The doomed lovers suffer only a short time,
Which makes it all the more appealing
But in real life
The passion doesn’t end with the dramatic gesture
No it grinds down into death slowly
In a thousand small ways,
Circling and circling through everyday life
Till the boring, stifling, humdrum agony of the end
Has hurt for so long, become a chronic complaint
That you find yourself in this aisle
Under this fluorescent lighting
Staring hungrily between the sleep aids and decongestant
Surely there must be something for sale ?
Something for $11.99 with the rewards card?
E.A. Hollifield was born and raised in the Big Sky Country, although she attends college at California State University, Chico, where she is an Agriculture Business major. Although she spent her childhood writing poems and stories for school contests and small town papers, this is her first time being published as an “adult”.