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We Meet On Tuesdays

She tells me, "You're very self aware, You know what, why and how you do things, Yet you continue to do them." I explain to her that I never learned how to ask for help So I only ever knew how to look to myself for the answer Which has led me to become pretty creative with metaphors As well as entertaining internal monologues, Like when I explained to her that my parents look at me And see a knot of misfortune Without looking at all the threads that I'm comprised of Which led them to this conclusion of me. She asked me if I ever thought of harming other people To which I noted that I tend to play fruit-ninja With peoples faces In my head. Though I'd never actually do anything, Just as I'm able to keep a professional demeanor Giving no hints to The constant stream of expletives in my head. She asks me why I don't feel like I have friends, Which leads me to disclose That I can't tell if I work too much To spend time with friends Or if I do it to distract from the lack of. I laugh when I regale her With how I recently bought a yoyo Because it is relaxing And makes me feel like a cool kid That would be part of the gang in Hey Arnold, Stating that it's been helping me with my panic attacks By focusing on making my yoyo Go around the world, Pretending it was me, Circumventing my lack of coping mechanisms. Iliana looks at me, with her mouth slightly turned down Attempting to keep a straight face Though her brows still knit together in slight confusion As she asks me how I'm able to say all of this with a smile on my face, "Well," I state, "I don't have time to be depressed."
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Written by
caitlin-drew
American
Published
May 3, 2016
Lines·Words
45·313
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