I woke up laying on some bed;
it felt as if someone
had placed a tight band
around my head.

All part of the ECT,
I guessed: the headache,
the heavy sensation
of limbs and head;
like some Lazarus
back from the dead.

Electro-convulsive Therapy,
they called it,
those guys in white coats;
make you feel
a whole lot better;
it helps some,
the nurse said,
before applying
the black rubber ****
in my mouth;
and that ***** of a needle
in the top of my hand,
and that buzzing feel
up from my toes
to my head and wham;
it's like I’m dead.

The window showed
the tops of trees,
snow covered,
grey sky;
the window frame
was white painted,
thick glass panes;
no cure, they say,
without pains.

There was a girl
in the next bed
to mine,
flat out,
barely breathing;
her ******* rising
and falling
in slow motion;
hands at her sides,
strapped in by belts
across the bed.

I had them, too;
to keep me
from falling to floor,
I guessed,
attempting to rise up
from where I lay.

I gave up trying
and stared
at the single light bulb,
(hanging like some suicide
from the ceiling),
with an odd
surreal feeling.