Storm

It’s been storming night and night

In the pouring rain; I drove to my parents’

On the small, two lane highway streets

Of South Michigan at night. Fog was thick.

 

Later, my sister told me my brother

Shouted, “Victory or death!” over

And over again while they were driving

Through the pouring rain, as well.

 

My body later awoke me, with chattering

And shivering of my jaw, my body, legs, inside

Me. I was frozen. I got up and told my brother, knowing

I looked ghostly pale in the night mirror and it scared me.

 

This was June, not December. He said take aspirin and

Lorazepam he had begged me for earlier tonight to assuage his

Severe depression. He said put on a sweatshirt. I did, all of those.

Except give him my meds.

 

“My name is on the bottle,” I said. I go to my doctors and they give me

My meds. Why don’t you go to get meds from your doctor? I asked.

He said, “They won’t give me any, just Prozac. It’s worthless.”

“Maybe you’re not saying the right things.”

 

My sister inquired, “You have anxiety attacks?”

“I don’t have panic attacks,” I said, “Just when I can’t take it.”

“The anxiety,” she said. She gets it.

It’s clear.

6/22/14

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