the therapist


She floats along the corridor like those chinese movie ghosts. She’s a stick of licorice. A praying mantis. A snake perhaps. I don’t know but there is something odd going on there and I’m here because there’s something wrong with me?

For god’s sake eat something woman. And wear a different colour now and then.

A brush stroke in thin air. A mere waft of a human. She doesn’t talk much. Just moves her mane from side to side – slow and rare movements. And at the end, from somewhere within, ‘you’re saaaad’. Looks like she’s going to cry herself.

Not doing me any good spilling to her. I want the panic attacks stopped now, the anxious feeling gone. I want to live not talk about past yuck. 

What to do?



14 thoughts on “the therapist

  1. Gorgeous descriptions 🙂

  2. (((((((Annie)))))))
    What to do? Feel the feelings no matter how yucky they are. There’ll be light at the end. You know that 🙂

  3. Annie You are walking the right path and you must push onward, our pasts make us who we are no matter the yuck we all have some hidden under our skin somewhere. Choose the power of learning. I love your description by the way, a poetic writer of substance…when are you going to write that book?

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