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thesa Jan 2019
some die
looking for a hand to hold

i got your hand
in mine
and i'm dying
nevertheless

- dear therapist
what does that say
about myself
Eleanor Jan 2019
1) You need compassion for yourself, especially the parts about you that you hate, or dislike, or find annoying, or you'll never feel whole, and that's just a fact.
2)  You need boundaries in emotion, even with the people you love the absolute most. You have to be okay with them not being okay sometimes.
3) We all should have a calm place in our minds.
4) Also, a box for us to store our sad and scary thoughts, that we will promise ourselves we will come back to later, but don't need to feel right in that moment.

\ I'll add more as they come along
:) I recommend her to every one, she saved me. Absolutely changed me.
I pour into
Those that
Do not know how
To pour into themselves,
And I am left—
A vessel for cleansing,
A vase
Of wilting flowers
Who waters herself
And blooms
Keegan Jan 2019
I'm writing a poem to my therapist
To tell her what I cant say.
To explain the emptiness that I feel,
The pain I feel everyday.

I'm writing a poem to my therapist
To tell her what I cant say.
To explain my hatred for myself,
The way that nothing feels okay.

I'm writing a poem to my therapist
To tell her what I cant say.
To explain my missing motivation,
The way I can't do anything any way.

I wrote a poem to my therapist
To tell her what I couldn't say.
To explain the twists of my mind,
The truth behind the facade I portray.
A poem I wrote to my therapist to explain .
Nomkhumbulwa Aug 2018
"I Wish I Was A Fridge"

I trust no one,
But I agree to see you;
You come every six weeks,
To see anything new.

I hardly know you,
I saw you last year;
I've seen others since then,
I know im difficult - thats clear.

But you came back again,
because there's no one else,
I have to trust you again,
When I dont trust myself.

But should I really trust you?
Or are you the same?
I hadnt seen you for so long
..i'd forgotten your name.

You ask me to explain,
And I try my best,
To explain whats in my head,
All the confusion and the rest.

I tell you everything,
With paper and pen;
Absolutely everything,
over and over again.

Then you say you cant help me,
So I feel even worse,
You say you are not a therapist,
I should have remembered that first.

All you care about
is whats in my fridge;
You go into my kitchen,
and check out my fridge.

Well the fridge is fine,
It might not be full,
But it has milk and leftovers,
...I wish it had wine too!!

You come here and visit,
And then I feel worse;
For I trusted you with things,
I should have thought again first.

For you cannot help me,
Why do you come?
My fridge is always quite happy,
My fridge is having great fun.

It has no nervous system,
No brain, no spinal cord;
Its incapable of "feeling"
Or trusting in the Lord.

You come all this way,
To look at my fridge,
You come here from Lamlash,
And check out my fridge.

I am clearly a failure,
As its always the same;
The fridge is just fine,
The pain is in my brain.

I wont see you again
for quite a while;
But I cannot promise
to put on a smile.

But my fridge will be fine,
I can promise you that;
If only I was a fridge...
...does anyone else feel like that?!

I shall get out some pens,
And draw a big smiley face;
Stick it on my fridge,
Just for you and your "fridge case".

I wish I was a fridge too, could put in and take out what I choose;
But im not an inanimate object - im a human being,
And I do often wonder....what got me into this state ...in the beginning.

All the best...with love...from the fridge :/ x
Rambling poetry during moments of frustration....not knowing who to turn to.
skyler Jun 2018
he loved her when it was convenient
when substance soaked his system
emotions boiled over and he had no where to pour them
so he used her
like a therapist
and when the session was over
she never crossed his mind

s.s
Shadow Dragon Jun 2018
Therapist: How are you feeling?

My answer: Currently experiencing hell on earth.
                      But nothing major, just a slight reaction
                      to the misery my thoughts
                      are dragging me though.

Therapist: That must be hard
Shadow Dragon Jun 2018
Your mother spoon-feeds you happiness.
But at some point
the happiness becomes rotten.

So she cuts your meat in pieces
and feeds it to the therapist.
In hope of answers.

But she will never find the knifes
cutting slowly in your mind.
For you are hopeless.
zero Feb 2018
If you can't think of it one way;
think of another.
You wouldn't let your car run from place to place
consistently for a week
without checking it's oil,
the tyres
or under the bonnet.

Why should we do any different?
My therapist said this to me

-Z.xo
no one Jan 2018
think happy thoughts they say,
and the bad ones will disappear.
and my question to you is how?
how am I supposed to stay happy,
when my thoughts are telling me that i'm
a **** up,
a mess,
a ****,
an idiot,
a *****,
a fatty,
ugly,
a failure,
and i'm never gonna succeed?

just tell me how

is it by completely hiding the fact,
that i have not-so-great thoughts?
is it by spilling out my thoughts,
to a person in a white coat,
so they can write it down on a clipboard,
and give me happy pills?

because it's not that easy.
yet people tell me every day,
it's not hard.
i just chuckle at them and say,
you don't understand.
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