A Poem: I See Fine

yellow background with a pair of glasses that seem to be transparent for the article I see fine

I see fine….

I love this black couch with its white fluffy pillows. 

I look into the eyes of the therapist, who’s job is apparently to listen and help me see.

“I see fine”, I tell her. She silently nods and writes something down- I never know what she writes down.

Sometimes I talk real fast just to see if she will get frustrated and tell me to slow down – she never does.

I tell her, “I love your black couch and white fluffy pillows.”

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I tell her the black couch makes me feel safe.

The white fluffy pillows make me feel secure.

She looks at me with kindness in her eyes with- is that a hint of pity I see?

I look back and I smile. I always smile. She just looks at me with eyes- no not pity… concern? love?

I sit and stare trying to decipher the code behind her eyes I sit and analyze how best to respond to her unspoken questions.

I laugh in my head about how they always ask.. so, how do you feel? I always thought that was a joke but, no, they really do ask – all. the. time.

I laugh thinking if I knew how I felt, I wouldn’t need her- or maybe I don`t really know much about anything anymore.

She’s looking at me still.

I smile.

“I love this black couch and white fluffy pillows”, I say.

I smile – but really I am annoyed at her kind eyes and concerned questions.

Why does kindness make me squirm and concern make me want to hurl this entire couch out the window-? Why does being loved feel so wrong, yet so intensely desired?

Man. therapists have a way of making you think deeply even when they don’t speak.

I don’t like her, but I do.

She understands. or at least she tries to.  

I think she knows all of this- she’s smarter than I give her credit for.

I smile.

“I see fine”, I tell her. She writes. Ugh.

I wonder if she goes home and tells her family about me.

I wonder if she ever eats dinner and thinks of me.

I wonder if I am apart of her like she has become of me.

I am about to tell her I love her black couch and white fluffy pillows when-

Honey, that couch is grey and the pillows are full of color.

Dang. Maybe I do need to be here.

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