You Were Her Antidepressant

she consumed your kisses like a pill marked with the label: happiness self-medicating her mental illness with the potential for love; a prognosis without a doctor’s presence but of course, you didn’t cure anything at all because names for medication never have one syllable and everybody knows you can't store a person as an elixir  she still locks away the tender smile you made before you kissed her in her trinket box of memories mostly untrue locked away with how frequently she needed to swallow an ‘I love you’ but like all SSRIs, the pain subsides then the demons rise with a wrath felt like no other so you consume any remedy that might demise a depression so oceanic or an anxiety that will paralyse and that became you  so, when eventually the monsters in her mind did reawake she grappled and tugged for reassurance from you that she would be okay but when you told her that you didn’t love her anymore her throat felt like it was closing and as you walked out her bedroom door her heart finished breaking  because you see, it was already fractured from weeks of your ignoring and the realisation that her medication wasn’t working – she didn’t just lose you that night she was forced to swallow the reality of her plight that she had actually lost herself a year before when she prescribed you as her antidepressant