Calm In A Box Poem by Eloisa Gearhart

Calm in a Box

11: 59 the black steams in a cup on the stand beside me from a box labeled 'CALM' in large letters and I can only hope that the blend of the black will do the trick:

chamomile, hibiscus, rose petals,
spearmint, lemon grass, lemon balm,
licorice and all the rest of the calming

Calm

Getting off the pills, Calm
but it's not so risqué as that
over the counter calm
of every type and formula and brand
for eight or more years worth of Calm
The Calm that helps me stumble
grope in the night with blurred eyes
wrapped in wrinkled skin
art of matching and mixing
an alchemist of Wal-Mart bottles
punch out packets gaping
and it takes
2,629,743.83 seconds for a habit to form
but how many to break? Calm

Then, sickened by the entire affair, my midnight lover
staring at me from beside my bed, disgusted
with the sex that hasn't been natural for years
four nights removed from the bitter breakup
Four nights without the peace
four nights of falling and rising to despised restlessness
3600 seconds later, disgusted and tempted
four nights of nightmares to nudge me before the buzzer

and
so
I bought a labeled box filled entirely with 'Calm'
Calm for all the backhanded compliments, the pretense, the games we play, the faith we can't find or never had
the tearing down of that which was never built up
Calm for the hectic
the hyper
the dreamers
the gropers
the encourager
the discouraged

Calm in a box for the lonely, the pill gulpers, the gregarious, calm for the pictures, the paintings on the lids, the trading one vice for another lover...

Calm.