I have to be honest with you: there were others.
& some of them were good. Before you gilded my hippocampus
I lay in bed with fireworks: antipsychotics, their distant cousins,
Risperdal, Abilify, all the dizziest bees.
When the SSRIs asked me to dance, I danced, heavier than I’ve ever been,
a weeping clockwork, but at least in motion.
Some even pinched a smile from me. I know you want to know:
Were they better Did I love them Would I ever go back Who was she.
But if you could see what they gave me: years.
From the bottom of the lake they scraped my literacy for breathing.
Or: my mother & I, side by side on a king-size bed, reading
while they ambled & flit through my thick helplessness.
I read books. I cooked meals. Forgive me.
Copyright © 2019 Shira Erlichman
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, LLC on behalf of Alice James Books.