First Counseling Session

“Have a seat, please” met my ears

I sank into the seat and settled in

Its easy comfort lured me in 

 

The cushion was simply too good to be true 

It was too soft, too snug, too seductive 

The room complemented this feeling of mine

It was welcoming and invit--

 

Stop. What am I even saying? 

Comfort? 

There was no way I’d ever have comfort in what I contained 

A story

A story that could never be said out loud, 

Never shared with anybody, 

Especially not to this lady with a clipboard and reassuring w--

 

What was I even thinking? 

Let it all flow? 

Open up? 

Here, let’s go? 

 

Hah! 

 

Little did I know,

This was my soon-to-be desire

To open up about my own murkiness 

And to be transparent with any willing soul

 

I let go of my need to suppress, 

And I shared with the clipboard lady

My mess

 

For years and years,

My pumping vessels needed fuel

But that day,

my heart was full 

 

Now... it’s every single time

I open my mouth

Let be

And speak

 

And it’s every single time 

That I find relief 

This poem is about: 
Me

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