Pills

There was the day
I realized
I’d stopped praying,
but couldn’t remember when.

Somewhere a machine
counts the pills
it thinks I’m taking.

There is a ghostly infrastructure
thriving on my broken head.

How bad something is or isn’t
can be administrated
at a molecular level.

Paying for it feels like sand
leaving from under my feet
when a wave goes out
soothing and smooth,
pulling me over
unless I step
and step again,
sometimes in the ocean
sometimes on the land.