I lie through my teeth every time I go to her office
Every time I sit in the middle of that gray couch with pillows on top and blankets all around
I isolate, still, even in this place, from all warmth and company

At first I could not fool her from what I was feeling what I was planning
But now she believes me
All the lies that slip through my lips and into the small cozy room
I would be lying if I said I didn't look forward to our meetings
Of course how are you to trust me now that you know my secret

My therapist is the only person who I feel comfortable around, without guards
And even then I do not ask for help
Even then I do not tell the truth

They say life gets better and what not
but sometimes it doesn't
whenever therapist speak about recovering they tell you a wonderful story where you life gets better and all this ****
but they fail to mention all the lives lost to a tragically beautiful disease
because that's what depression is
its tragically  beautiful because you may have suicidal thoughts or feel really low but in the end you embrace the disease
you come to terms with it that you either get better or die trying
and by the looks of it, you're not going very far
they don't tell you how to live with the disease that's slowing taking over you life
they don't warn you that you're bound to loose friendships because despite them saying they will stick with you through thick and thin they simply don't
they don't tell you how to survive with it and that sometimes it doesn't get better.

anorexia and binge eating disorder
depression and OCD
reactive attachment disorder
sexually assaulted
sensory processing disorder
suicidal
abused
neglected
hostile
resentful toward mother figures
fearful of father figures
cutter
people pleaser
desire to be perfect
high expectations for herself
lost

"im not sure how i am going to help you. but i will do my best" -she says

the order,
the routine,
the rules,
the reasons I want to skip class,
the reasons I do,
the reasons I get detentions,
the reasons I never show,
the schedule,
the lack of order,
the up,
the back down?
the back up then down again but across the school on top of it!
the swimming pool,
the ******* swimming pool,
the **** no I'm not swimming,
the I won't make it to math class.
the guidance office,
the guidance counselor,
the guidance counselor who says she hopes she's not taking up my time,
the period is my lunch,
the location i'm in,
the guidance office,
the problem,
the fact its every monday wednesday and friday,
the fact I may wanna eat,
the fact I wanna see my friends,
the fact you're taking my little social life away,
the bell rings,
the ring is the most joyful irritating noise I hear all day,
the fact I forgot about the freshman for a second,
the ring is the second irritating noise I hear all day.
the next class is science,
the fact your required appointment runs too long,
the fact your class is so far away,
the fact you have a minute rather than five to get there,
the fact you don't make it halfway before the bell rings,
the fact you start crying because you are late for class,
the fact your life is over,
the fact you duck into the bathroom,
the sticky doors are of no concern right now,
the bathroom stalls are all empty,
the middle one you claim and you sit,
the floor you sit, you cry, try to be silent,
the effort to breath, trying not to have a full on panic attack,
the things going on in your head,
the dread pours in,
the anxiety levels rushes in.
the thoughts poor in and spill even when its over flown,
the fact you call your mom,
the fact she gets you off the floor,
the fact she reminds you,
the fact you have to touch that sticky door,
the door you touched once before,
the hand you touch the door with you used to wipe tears with,
the sly way to open the door,
the silence you make,
the bent down head,
the quite,
the trying to act normal,
the nothings going on trip,
the way to the main office,
the fact you on the phone in the hallway,
the fact you made it to the office,
the fact the principal wants to see you,
the fact you start explaining what happened,
the schedule,
the wrongs,
the wrongs they caused,
the people they put in classes to embarrass you,
the abuse the teachers gave you,
the list rambled on and on,
the fact he yelled at you,
the fact he said you were not being respectful,
the fact this school never gave you respect,
the fact they took everything you had left,
the fact he continued to yell til the office ladys got up
the ladys got up,
the people flocked to the door,
the principal went silent,
the fact you still continued to cry,
the fact he acted as if nothing happened,
the fact he tried to say he was gonna fix it all,
the fact you both knew nothing was going to happen,
the fact you both were right,
the fact once you parted ways you were then greeted with a call down,
the fact someone sent you to the nurse,
the walk was the best part,
the pondering of what its for, allergies, medication information?
the arrival is shocking to you,
the nurse greets you and leads you,
the small room you cornered into,
the place where she asks to view you,
the places on your body like your arms,
the fact she implies other places could be searched
the next time
the fact you now know this will happen again,
the fact you having an anxiety attack,
the fact you wanted to say no,
the fact you know if you did,
the next act they'd do is send you to the hospital,
the scare tactics is not fair,
the fact you go home,
the fact you cry,
the fact you don't wanna go back to this place,
the fact they won't let you transfer,
the fact you have done all you could of done.
the fact that they still have the nerve to of ****** up your schedule.

my therapist knows the color of your eyes

For Keith, that man mountain of towering spirit,
That weaver of emotion, standing proud in his truth.
I wish to be like you;
An artist of the heart, of genuine expression,
A facilitator of truth,
A provider of safety,
Like a harbor for small ships caught in a storm.
You offer a home to those who have none,
A space of healing wrapped in acceptance and silence,
An inn to rest for the night,
So we may continue our journey refreshed.

But how did you find this goodness?
Was it given to you as a gift at birth?
No.
You wrestled it from your soul
With awareness, unflinching courage and tears.

You were never sure if it was the light in the room
but you told me;
You did not even need to squint to see a 12 year old boy.
And I could breathe then.
And only then.
At 22.

I read how you were struck off
for professional misconduct.
But it was just the right amount of intimacy
I needed to feel close.
I had no one.

You took my payment one month in advance.
I arrived early for every session
because I had nothing else to do.
Loitering on the doorstep.
You recorded our sessions, making tentative notes,
never at the expense of eye contact.
Lightly commenting how my feet dangled from the arm chair.
Unlikely I would grow much more-
you left your tone open for my interpretation,
like my growing, or not growing,
was neither here nor there.