'Alternative medicine: To be swallowed whole and taken once a month' by Jennifer Watts

 Once a month she rises, a bright goddess in a dark sky. 

All day I’m restless, pacing round the small room. The ward gets noisier as the hours count down, and my expectation grows. 

Nightfall comes. Here she is - pearl and perfect! 

I reach out the barred window and, gently, between thumb and forefinger, pluck her from the star-struck canvas. I pop her on my tongue, hold her for just a second. Then, with one gulp, she is gone. 

This full moon is no bitter pill. 

She’s a sweet orb, fizzing through my veins. I’m the exact shade of deep happy.

 Now I’m exquisitely focussed, everything crystal clear. 

I call out answers to the universe’s questions. Harried nurses nod, offering sedation but I tell them, “I’ve taken my medicine.” 

The full moon, she holds me enthralled til morning when once again I’ll shuffle through moody days, my thoughts woolly, my plans half-baked. 

Until the next wild tide, when they’ll call me crazy again.