Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jun 7
I get asked questions
That I
Have already tortured myself with
For years
I get defensive
While being offered guidance
I get fueled by false hope
That someday
I'll have the wherewithal
To wake up
Look myself in the mirror
And be okay with what I see
But for now
Therapy blows chunks.
Written by
OnLithium  24/M/Somewhere
(24/M/Somewhere)   
28
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems