How are you doing today? I ask
the client sitting across from me.
Their answer is muffled. All I hear
is Terrible
Terrible
Terrible
resounding through me. It echoes, seeking
a way out through my close-lipped smile.
Fake.
You are Fake.
You are so Fake
screams within me. I hold it in, reminding
myself that this is not the time.
How can I help others
when I'm splitting apart inside?
YOU ARE READING
Faces of Autonomy: A Poetry Collection
Poetry"The bones break, building upon one another-each vertebrae snapping, stacking, until my limbs reach the highest shelves." -From Chameleon. TW: Abuse, Grief, Loss, Violence. Poetry was never a genre I thought I would get into. I read very little po...
