Therapy

Void-Empty-Chair-e1360177205438

 

When it comes to issues,

they’ll tell you: better out than in.

In the counsellor’s room,

locked safe on the highest floor,

tissues frilled out of a box

where perhaps before me

someone had flailed

 

with a clumsy hand, seeking

sympathy, tugging Kleenex

as though they could plug it

the way cotton balls stuff

a tugged tooth.

It is like tugging teeth too,

this stripping yourself down

to the bones, sobbing striptease–

telling all–

 

like cutting a stuck bandage

to show him your stickiest wound,

this other human

almost understanding 

with a slow nod

and a green clipboard,

how despite myself 

I tell him things

you could not imagine,

not you, smiling over

your toast,

your oily fingers

 

rubbing newspaper corners,

humming to yourself,

oblivious as rain,

dabbing crumbs

with a wet thumb

as I measure cold milk,

suck on a dry spoon,

starving again–

before waving you off

with a frozen hand,

turning up here

in this secret room,

my slim void

heavy, 

hungry in my arms 

as a baby.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Uncategorized

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s