CAVERNS

It seeps into my pores
like mean-spirited prickles.
A cavern forms in the pit of my stomach
and travels upward
to jab my heart with stabbing pain.

The sun is hazy and the rocks are dry.
Warm weather does not heal my emptiness.
No reasons, no explanation,
no beginning no trigger.
Just brain chemistry gone awry.

A brain formed from a gene pool of crazies.
I have been dealt this lot in life.
Sylvia is gone now, and happy where she is.
My dear, witty, creative aunt whose features
I carry inside and out.

It’s adjustment time.
Tune-up time.
Tweak the meds
the psychiatrist says.

Give me relief,
oh, God and Doctor Howard
give me relief!