An unlicensed
therapist and I,
sitting in a
white room,
chaotic yet calm.

He sits on the
blue cushioned
chair, silent.  
Every word
out my mouth
runs like wild dogs,
lost beyond the woods.
His eyes, darted like
a hawk as I talk.
Digging too deep
into my crooked,
insane, ******-up heart…
Unsettling yet interesting.

A chaotic poet
and a therapist—
Both observers
in one room.
I asked him,
tested his
thought:

“Am I insane to you?”
“We just met…”