One hour a week,
Forty-five minutes to be exact.
They say I must do this to keep my mind intact.
How much help can one hour each week with a complete stranger be?
I don't know her, she doesn't know me.
How do I walk someone through years of physical and mental anguish?
The suffering needs to vanquish.
I walk away feeling only numb,
How many feelings can I drown with a bottle of ***?
I’m not sure how many shots I did that night,
I just know I’m sick of struggling in this fight.
Prisoner to my bed,
Victim to my own thoughts.
Who knew the path to becoming more mindful could make me feel so awful?
So I pull myself out of the abyss,
I know I have to tackle this.
I begin to notice my grief and gloom,
Slowly float it’s way out of the room.
In just one hour a week,
I am finally learning how to be me.