a poem to my therapist

You’re there when I’m not there,

when I shut down, when I don’t care.

You’re there when I feel full

when I’m empty, when I’m cruel.

You were there when someone died,

when I’ve hated, when I’ve lied.

You’re there when I’m absent

You hold the space, just when I can’t

cope with what’s going on. You hold

what’s in here, from loo bowl to fool’s gold.

You’re there when nobody else is.

Thanks to you, I’m re-finding my fizz.

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