As I strip down to just my soul in front of her
I begin to see myself through the eyes of an unbroken woman
And with every step I take deeper into my past
I fear that I might lose my way back to the present
Sorrow in her eyes
Tight lips with occasional nods
She listens attentively to my life story
And with every scar I show her
I begin to wonder if the scar is real or did I fake it
Is my past real or did I fake it?
And when I tell her that I didn't have a rough childhood
She stares at me with wallowing eyes
As if to say "its okay to be broken"
Its okay to be broken
Its okay to be broken
Its okay to be broken
I repeat over and over again
Desperately trying to find meaning behind these words
Desperately trying to find asylum in these words
And I cry
I tell her that I did not want my days to be this dark
Full of fear and resentment
Full of worry and harm
I did not want my days to be this dark
And she nods
Writes some notes
Asks some questions
And I hold back the tears
Try to convince myself that I am okay
Even though I'm not okay
And part of me wants to scream so loudly that the whole world hears my cries
Part of me wants to be seen
To be heard
To stand on the clouds and yell
"I'm a broken woman"
I'm a broken woman
I live in fear and isolation
I take my trauma with me everywhere I go
I hold on to my past and try to find purpose in it
And I wish people could see me the way my therapist sees me
And I wish my parents could see me the way my therapist sees me
Raw and vulnerable
With every scar and every tear
Open up my book and show you traces of black charcoal
Creating an image that only I can see
Creating a world that only I can see
And I wish I could show them my demons
And I wish I could tell them I'm broken
And why is it so damn hard to admit that I'm broken
Why is it so damn hard to admit that I need help
And after exactly 60 minutes
She closes her notes and smiles
And I smile back
I return back to the present and leave my past in her office
And we share some small talk
As if I'm not the patient anymore
As if I'm just a person
I am just a person
A broken person, but still a person
And I can't erase my past
But I can add some color to it
Conversations With My Therapist
One response to “Conversations With My Therapist”
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This is very much how it is!
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