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My Therapist Said
My Therapist said,
I am a fighter
and I am brave.
I have an iniquity in me
but I will be saved.
I open up in a pragmatic way.
I’m not one to respond with a “I’m fine or I’m ok.
I am virtuously one of a kind
Book and street-smart.
I will remember how to love again.
I will light up my enigmatic heart.
My therapist said,
“What is going on in your head?
How are things going at home?”
I say things remain the same.
I’m repeating an ominous cycle.
I’m aching every night and day.
A little piece of me fades away.
“I know your self-esteem is decreasing.
Nothing seems to be getting easier.
Keep hanging in there go-getter.
I promise things will change for the better.”
My therapist said,
The pills will reduce the negative thoughts.
A month has gone by and I have denied.
The irony is that I want to die.
I don’t know how to truly smile anymore.
I live in a bubble of numbness.
The sight of everything makes me bored
I’ve become a monotonous zombie.
As I describe the change in myself,
I see I’d rather perceive and be aware on the spot.
Than continue living as a lifeless robot.
My therapist said,
She’s not just trying to be nice.
Her persona is genuine and ideal.
It’s tough receiving the compliments and advice.
I will detect what’s false and what’s real.
It’s normal to cry because all humans feel.
The tears show my pain as an appalling ordeal.
But I’m not handling the darkness on my own.
Because my therapist-my savior is here.
I will triumph the battle dead set against my fears.
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