Changing

I wanted to play the hero and save you from it all;
the traffic, the rain, the awful jobs. Within the house,

I was the smaller things, the TV on the blink,
the magazines on the floor, busted lightbulbs, dropped glasses.

I stopped when I could not become anything good,
when I was then the bottle which robbed your pills of their power,

watching, waiting for you to take me up in your hands
and then, very suddenly, wishing I could tip myself over and drop.