Therapy Session

I have something to confess

Without coercion or duress

And this isn’t easy for me in the least but—

My therapist says that honesty is the best policy

And apparently transparency is necessary

For unabridged progression toward emotional prosperity

And everyone knows 

It’s wise to assign monetary value

To psychological complexity

And since no one is listening anyway it seems fitting

To contribute toward new beginnings

By talking to the walls and purging myself

Of all that plagues me at midnight

And during reruns of gunsmoke

So here goes:

 

You mean nothing to me.

And you never did.

 

It’s not that I didn’t want you to

It’s just that you proved yourself to be pointless

You were a decent muse but only because

My fantasy of you was far more interesting

Than you in reality

I saw it happening as if

I was in the third person in a Hitchcock film

The twist manifested in a distressing swell of staccato strings

I eye’d the inevitability of our Grecian demise

And I didn’t despise you even though I said I did

No, I observed

With the detached fascination of a tourniquet

Smiling politely at a freshly severed artery

It was maniacal

How cathartic it felt

The bloodletting of you

As every ivory domino beveled

End on end they fell

You flattered yourself by thinking

You were capable of harming me

Study harder the hierarchy of love

When you left I lost nothing

But I did gain clarity

At least that’s what my therapist says

a. duncan, 2019


 

Featured image: Still from Vampyros Lesbos (1971)

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Amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus || Love is rich with both honey and venom

13 thoughts on “Therapy Session

  1. So much to love in this poem,
    But I loved this:

    “No, I observed
    With the detached fascination of a tourniquet
    Smiling politely at a freshly severed artery
    It was maniacal
    How cathartic it felt
    The bloodletting of you
    As every ivory domino beveled
    End on end they fell”

    I feel like this is a visual depiction of what catharthis is actually like, if you were able to see it, as if it were indeed a scene in a Hitchcock film… I can picture the mind expelling, leveling, flattening, like dominos…. a cascading, unstoppable process. The observing self allowing that to happen, politely standing back, detached.

    Really, a masterful poem, full of the richness and darkness of the subconscious as discovered in the therapy room.

    💜🗝

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Oh my god Rachel. Exactly!!!!!! How do you understand me better than I understand myself most of the time? Jeez. ♥️

      I wanted to jump up and down reading this because you went straight to the heart of this piece. Those few lines you quoted were actually where I started – and then built the rest of the poem around it so it’s thrilling you tuned into those words.

      You couldn’t have described my concept (the visual, cinematic experience of acceptance, even occasional revelry in letting go of something toxic) more accurately or given me more feels from understanding it’s meanings.

      You are a treasure! 💎

      Liked by 1 person

      1. The treasure here, my dear, is certainly you, and these poems you create. All I do is get the pleasure of reading them and saying some of the myriad of things they make me think of and feel. Lucky me!! ❤️💋

        Liked by 1 person

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