Oops.


Of course my therapist
wanted specifics.

And of course, I was
wonderfully manic and obliged.

Hallucinations, check.
Not too hard to talk about.

Delusions, nope.
When you're wearing the clothing,

You think it must look good.
No one notices the stains, right?

When I told her that I'd begged Aaron not to take me to the hospital all those years ago; when I told her how bad it was, oversharing as I like to do; when I told her that I'd been afraid of being locked away; she told me that it was an understandable notion, and also a real possibility.

Oops.

I'm still figuring things out over here.



Poetry by R.W.S. The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 35 times
Written on 2024-02-24 at 22:05

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