Amputee

For the past week he's been folding himself into pills,
and leaving whatever doesn't fit in the bathroom sink
to get washed down after someone uses the facilities.
My mother says it started when he couldn't sleep,
but I found the best parts of my father when I walked into
the living room that was only lit by Star Trek reruns
and we ate whatever form of chocolate we had in the house.
I'd like to think it started because he bumped his head
when he went off the road right before his first break
down. But as we sit around the living room trying
to figure out how you stop a man from going crazy
we know that it came from somewhere inside of him
and that we have pieces of him in us. Dr. Jenny
assures us that he'll be himself again, and encourages
us to go to her if we're experiencing any
symptoms. I told her I don't fit in pills,
and I don't want the best parts of me
swimming in the septic tank.

Author's Note

I want my writing to be better, please be very honest.