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Some of you think that I write quite sad.
Some of you think that I need therapy.
Some of you think that my life is bad.
Some of you think that I am not happy.

I don’t really care what you think cause’
you don’t know what I have been through.
I don’t really care what you know cause’
I know it’s a puzzle and you have no clue.

Some of you think that I am broken inside.
Some of you think that I am in depression.
Some of you think that I need to hide.
Some of you think it’s a false impression.

I don’t really care what you think cause’
I am happy and blessed wherever I am.
I don’t really care what you know cause’
you know nothing and I don’t give a ****.
My comfort
In this office
With my notebook
And degrees
Are secondary
To the known
Truth
That you deserve
To believe
In the beauty
Of life
And the necessity
Of your mark
For the book we write
As one
light a spark to burn away
thoughts that I have lived today
what time is it?

time for medication
Matthew 6d
We are not being foolish when we decide
that our life
is not worth living.
We should not be treated as if we didn't know what we were doing.
A choice is made that does not ignore the possibilities of what could happen.
So when we need help,
we only ask that we are treated
as a person that made that decision.

Rather than someone who does not know what is best for them.
n Jan 12
Eve
Embarrassed at her crude, superficial motivations she continues. This is a hidden therapy she’s toying with. She thinks she isn’t any good. She doesn’t know as many words as he does.
Comparison is her damnation.
Look at her, she’s plastered herself to the floor.
Immobile, she can’t even reach the glass ceiling threshold.
He slithers away, contented.
I explore the reasons I started writing poetry again. Realising, it was to impress a boy who is a poet himself it led me to this take on Adam & Eve and original sin.
What can I give you
That you have not already
Taken,
What can I say
That I have not
Uttered now?
Time will tell
If you change
Or stay rooted
To your chains
Rowan S Jan 12
Being open blows
Blah blah, talking, feelings, blah
Verbal vom session
On the topic of therapy.
You pour
Your heart
Out to me;
I pull
The courage
Out of you.
What a delicate
Vibrant
Vulnerable exchange
Rowan S Jan 7
Just a glance paints a picture
Images of some other era
Non-existent ideas
That maybe laughed, wept
Danced
Steam rising from slick skin
The starlight illuminating us
Perhaps we found unexplored places
Dined on fabulous food
Lived
Fought
Loved
But.
Here we are
In this circle of broken people
So just a glance
Lets me imagine
Occasionally you write about random people you are in group therapy with, because you still aren't ready to actually deal with your own problems.

I don't really feel this hopeless romanticism anymore, but I started my page with the intention of posting the old with the new as well.
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
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