First Prozac Prescription 

 
 
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Clenching my giant scattered purse on my lap: 

the one where I once left spoiled leftovers. 

Last week I found the tuna nigiri in a wrinkled napkin, 

the smell like pencil shavings in sea leaves.

A quick rinse with a Wet Ones wipe 

And the purse has that new smell again, 

I fill it with diuretic pills from a sketchy website. 

I tell the doctor at the walk-in clinic my secret at the time: 

I think I have bulimia. It occupies the bulk of my brain power. 

Her voice roars over mine, in the confined room. 

Why would you make yourself do that? 

Twenty is too old

I believe her. 

She writes the script faster than I can say 

Last one there is a rotten sushi leg.

Prozac. She says it will fix me. 

 
 
 

Terris Schneider is a cozy femme and writer based in Tkaronto. They are the Managing Editor for Flannel Magazine and have published works in Metro News, Discorder, Pique Newsmagazine, DINE Magazine, Sophomore Magazine, and the Post Feminist Post. Terris completed the program at the Humber School for Writers, and a poetry mentorship at Arc Magazine.