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tia Nov 12
I like helping people
But I don't think I can
I can't handle it
And I'm not wise or experienced
I see these people
Who have these answers
And a part of me
Wishes to be like them
I want to be a good person
But I'll always need more love
Then I'm able to give
Aus May 29
I talked to my therapist today
for the 7th time
it was like the 2nd, 4th, and 5th times
where I felt and listened and talked and explained and felt
but it wasn’t like the 1st, 3rd, or 6th times
because I didn’t feel better
The 7th time was like the 7th time
It matched the circular stencil I trace
when I try to fix myself in my head
I was me during the 7th time
But something
had turned my volume down

The other times I wore a smile hard enough to make her think I’m kind and interesting  and okay like I do with everyone
This time though, I was being held by my brain like an ant in a glass box
And the heavy invisible walls of the glass box are like my emotions that make it harder to breathe sometimes
and I repeated a lot of what we discussed during the 1st, 3rd, and 6th times
not because I wanted or needed to talk about it again
but because it pokes a finger in that spot between my shoulder blades and whispers to me all of the things I want to change about myself
and so on the 7th time, i used my vocal cords to let those words out
so maybe they’d be a little quieter

These whisper words are the things I didn’t know about me until I turned 13 or 14
and I started to become a whole person
The whisper things are those small strips of adhesive in between the big pieces that make a whole person
like the parts of a special coffee mug that
was broken and got glued together, but will probably never really hold coffee again
it may look good on a shelf
or bring back a fond memory
when you see it tucked away in the cabinet
But it won’t ever function
the way it was crafted to
Because something broke it
And used cheap glue to put it back together

But this was only the 7th time
And I’m hoping
that by the 8th time, I can tell the ant to leave the glass.
I want to tell my breath to come and go as it pleases
And tell my back not to hurt
because it is a good back
and my lungs are good lungs.
And that voice that whispers
It isn’t my voice
But is the voice of broken coffee mugs.

Maybe I will believe it after the 8th time.
Hey.
By the way,
I'm still alive!
And nothing happened.
A friend came by
She said hi
And saw my face all blackened
Like thunder in the desert,
I went hot-cold-BOOM!
Exploded
All over
Just the two of us in my room.
"So everything's okay, right?"
For another day, I guess.
I had a good appointment with my
Therapist.
Though this still presents a problem,
I can lay my head and rest.
Remembering that there will be
A new day coming.
Next!
Feeling a little more hopeful today. Sorry I talk about suicide and self harm so much. It's a hard knock life...
Quinn Adaire Nov 2019
Top 3 types of people who probably need a therapist

1. Poets

Have you seen the poems here?! Most are about pain, cutting, depression, suicide, ex’s, breakups, feeling too much, and so much more. Most of us probably need a visit to the loony bin!

2. Musicians

Again, y’all feel as much as an elephant weighs, which is a lot! This means you feel lots of sadness, fear, and anger. Also, all good songs are about an artists emotional angst. So, yeah.

3. Artists
No one can beautifully paint, sculpt, and draw naked people stabbing  each other and still be sane. And also, what’s bad for the heart, is good for art. Art is filled with sadness, fear, and anger.

So, my point is, we’re all insane. Including me. See you at the wacky shack!
If you disagree, please be respectful. This is all a joke, and may or may not be accurate. Kay? Kay.
Tabbitha Erceg Nov 2019
How many times
Did I sit in that therapists office
Having conversations with you
That never left my mouth
Nazish Idrees Sep 2019
It is all about how we think
We fall towards what we lose
We love the one who is unreachable
We tend to forget who stays in front of us
We regret the chances we don’t take
We met the people who didn’t mean to remain
We touch the sky and hit the ground
We stand up again and lost in a crowd
Lilly F Aug 2019
I had to cut you off
not from my life
but from the way you use me,
as your drug
your medication
your therapist
your twelve-step program
because your process of healing,
has become your addiction


©L.F.
Elkay Aug 2019
I’m sure you’ve been around to see
There is this thing called ther-a-py

Once I went into this room
This girl, she asked me how I do

So schools been good? she asked
Sure, Sure, I answer fast

This girl, I do not know her well
But I know her just enough to tell

I won’t be pouring out my heart
I will not show my broken parts

She expects to show up just one night
And dig deep down into my life

So first, she says, I have to question
Through all of this so-clear depression

Ever the thought inside your brain
To cause yourself a physical pain?

Or a single thought inside your head
That you might wish that you were dead?

No, not once, not ever, I say,
Not a single time, not every day

But had she just rolled up my sleeve
She’d see the bitter scars that bleed

And had she cared to see my hand
Would never claim to understand
Nigdaw Jul 2019
I gave my sadness to my cat
it fitted his deadpan face
and generally glum demeanour,
he had the personality for it
besides it made him cute,
and a massive hit with the ladies

of course, I couldn’t really
give my sadness to my cat
apart from it being really unfair,
on my best friend and only true
companion, it is ridiculous
to think that an animal is depressed,

though I am, even with his support
endless nights listening to my troubles
his expressionless face understanding
every word, he helps me of course
having to look after someone who relies
on you, makes you feel wanted,

useful, almost powerful in some ways
but after all he is just a cat, however
much I try to make him human,
did I tell you he talks, not really
I think I probably need a therapist
and he just needs to be a cat,

it’s what he does best after all.
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