therapy is weird.
you can’t just go once and feel better.
you go,
and then you go again,
and again.
when you leave
you feel out of touch with reality
trying so hard
not to overthink
the things that brought you
to therapy
in the first place
feeling needy and displaced
wondering
when will it all feel
“normal”
again?

i anchor
myself
to the back
of your mind
you wish
me away
but here
i still linger

i wish i could read your mind
but that would be an abuse of trust
so i must believe
that you trust me too
and will share when you are ready

My death will be liberating.

And I do not say that in the sense
that I am going to find a cliff
and take a good jump off.

No.

I am just trying to find a
clever way to tell you

that I do not know what is going
to happen next.

You see,

there is a
fine line
between
dreaming and
mortality

and

I am finding out for myself
that being in love
does not always
involve

being awake.

And for my sake
I fall in love with daydreams,
nightmares,
hazy realities
and

the hung-over idea

of not being enough.

It is all out of my hands.
                 It is all out of time.

And the only thing I have left to do,
now,


is decide.