I saw my therapist
Every Friday at
6:02 on the dot.
We would walk into
Her office and an
Awkward tension
Would always
Settle in as soon
As I would speak.
She would always ask
"How was your day?"
In this happy little
Voice and I would
Always just pull
Up my shorts
And show her the
New red lines
That layered
My pale skin.
She would shake
Her head and
Continue by
Talking about how
The week went.
We never talked
About the red lines
Or my broken mind.
After 5 visits
She ran away with
Our money
And never
Came back
M.R
Thank you for reading
111 words
YOU ARE READING
𝙋𝙝𝙤𝙩𝙤𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙥𝙝𝙨
Poetry1:48 am "And with every drop of rain that hits the earth, I can hear your soulful voice echoing through my mind. Calm whispers of the wind, crashing along the sea, calming my every nerve. You are the air in my lungs and the words I speak. You are my...
