Sitting pants down on the toilet, holding the autoinjector to my thigh, I hesitate.

$600. $600 twice a month. Clear syrup and a hidden needle. $600 twice a month that might work. Belly skin recommended. Pinch a roll and jab it in. I can’t do it, not there, too soft, too infant, I’ll fall apart. I fall apart. $600 shot inside you. Hurry this shit up I gotta get to work. Results usually seen after $1,800 I mean after three doses. It’s just a poke and a burn, fifteen seconds tops. You don’t even see the needle. $600 feels hollow in my hand. What if I want to see it go in? $600 twice a month that might work, or do nothing, or cause heart failure or serious infections or cancer. When is it too late to change my mind? $600 twice a month to slow my degenerating disease. I don’t want cancer. I don’t want pokes. Where will I get a third job? You can do anything for fifteen seconds. Hurry up. I’m shivering. $600 feels hollow in my hand.

Matt Miller is a poet and teacher. His poetry and essays appear in Eckleburg, The Halcyone, and elsewhere. Learn more at mattmiller-writer.com.