Monte-
That is BEAUTIFUL! Thank you for it. And yes- I can see where a T might say that, and I am glad at your response.

I think Poetry might be a good release for me, but I just started writing a little this week- (first time) mostly about the disconnect. Here is a part of my writing- a very rough draft so far.

WHY ARE YOU ANGRY WITH ME?

I think of you with love-
one friend to another

So my suffering is strong-
loss of your sweet compassion.

I feel I have overstayed my welcome
and I will not visit where I am not invited.

Yes, I make the appointment,
but it is you that says-

"Welcome my friend - come in to my heart and share your being; for I am not afraid of your spirit."

My sorrow is that now your heart is closed because you are angry.
I've touched a forbidden part, a part not open for me to see.

Forgive me
It was not my intent

You too - have hurt me by illuminating my doubts in my almost perfect faith.

I wanted your inner-self to dance with me,
Feel the joy I know, like Hafiz

Poetry was the beginning of the dance
and now it is over-just as it had begun.

Maybe we should not dance at all
Is this forbidden in your life-work?

The line has been crossed
and now your heart is shut tightly.
I am sorry for it.

This is my third dance- you know
Invited- then asked to leave.

"You have the wrong spirit," they say
"Choose mine and stay- keep yours and take it with you!"

There is no choice- for I know my truth
So what's the use

I will graciously obey
There must be something very important to learn here-
And for that I am grateful,
But my heart is breaking non the less

I shake the dust from my shoes and leave
weeping.

This sends me begging for understanding and mercy-
To my love - my God.
***************************************************************

After I work on it- clean it up, I think I will send it to my T.
After all - he is expecting some sort of a reply.

helle,

I think you should definitely give that to your T. What a great expression of what you are feeling! I wish I could express my feelings like that. Amazing!

And Monte, yours was amazing, too! Wow, what talent you people have! Just blows my mind!!

Maybe I should work at trying to express some of my mixed up feelings through poetry. It seems to resonate with me because it's not written in a really clear, straightforward way (if that makes sense), just like the way I feel it all inside of me. Hmmm.

Thanks MTF,
I edited it a little.
This whole thing is making me so so incredibly sad. It must be a huge trigger, that I don't have understanding about.
People say that the wounds are held in your body; that must be so because my legs are hurting, similar to (but not nearly as severe) when I was a child.
I sent it to him along with a letter, then I txt him and asked him to read it before Monday. His response just seems to be so cold. I dont really know why he is angry with me. He turned his back on me and I left without making an apointment the last time I saw him.
Monday is so far away. I hate attachment!

Hi BB,
First I need to say that I am feeling so much better today, why- I am not quite sure.
You asked an excellent question, and this is my take on it- at least with my relationship with my T. Here goes-
My T makes me completely in charge of my therapy. He comes into my internal spaces and lets me be whatever I am - whatever i am feeling at the time. If I am going through the good times- we have a great fun session, but lately I have been suffering greatly, with mostly spiritual matters, and it is as if he has allowed himself to be the scapegoat. I work out my hurts through him. He was not present during the abuse- yet he takes the outpouring of my pain (or joy or whatever is present at that time) Now I understand why he asks me to be gentle with him- that never made sense to me before. He lets me practice my life, my relationships good or bad, with him. (the ones I need to practice are usually bad)
I posted something about the inner child last night. I was seriously crying while writing. What ever I wrote (I have to find it on the inner child thread) was releasing for me. something about the little girl holding the sadness. I don't have many memories of what happened to me, but the little girl does. I think last night i tapped into something while writing on the thread. Writing has been a good vehicle to access stuff. It seems I can access stuff that I can't remember, or can't say. IDK if that makes any sense.
Anyway- I called my T this morning and explained my new understanding and he could not believe how well I am beginning to understand how this hard hard practice of therapy works. I never felt depression before- at least not like I have the last 2 wks. It is like I unlocked some of the sadness from the little girl. I wish I had some memories to go with this. On one hand I think- what if I am making up this stuff, on the other hand I think- why in the heck would I do that.
Man- this is hard work!
Is this making any sense?
I can now relate to the idea of the "dark night of the soul" or the anguished poet.
I wonder if I can write poetry when I am not in so much pain?

I have only written a little poetry (and nothing I want to share! ), but I do love reading it.

Here is Sonnet V by Edna St. Vincent Millay. I read this the other day and thought of my P, and how I plan to have my next session be my last. How devastated I would be if anything ever happened to him, and yet, how I would be unable to show my sadness or even share it with anyone, since no one knows how I feel about him. I guess this applies to quitting therapy, too. (BTW, it's National Poetry Month in the U.S. Funny coincidence.)


V

If I should learn, in some quite casual way,
That you were gone, not to return again--
Read from the back-page of a paper, say,
Held by a neighbor in a subway train,
How at the corner of this avenue
And such a street (so are the papers filled)
A hurrying man--who happened to be you--
At noon to-day had happened to be killed,
I should not cry aloud--I could not cry
Aloud, or wring my hands in such a place--
I should but watch the station lights rush by
With a more careful interest on my face,
Or raise my eyes and read with greater care
Where to store furs and how to treat the hair.

Hi Echo-
I detect sadness and loss in this poem.
May I ask why you are quitting therapy? (yesterday and the day before- I was too, but today, i am ok)

quote:

How devastated I would be if anything ever happened to him, and yet, how I would be unable to show my sadness or even share it with anyone, since no one knows how I feel about him.

Does your T know how you feel? You know- we get attached to them because they give us stuff we need, that we lost or did not feel when we were young. (Attachment Girl can explain this rather well)Fear that our Ts are sick- or they might die is a sign of this attachment (all new to me)and something I can relate to- well.
The poem I wrote was my forst attempt since the 5th grade, and I was inspired by my T sharing some poetry with me. (Hafiz-a 13th century Persian is one of his favorites)
He has such incredible titles to his poetry like "Someone Untied Your Camel" (that is the one he read to me I think) and Laughing at the Word Two, and If God invited you to a Party, and An Old Musician- this one I txt to him because I was leaving therapy because of our disconnect. It is a BEAUTIFUL poem about greeting and leaving. Since our disconnect was about spiritual stuff, the first line spoke to me, It is-

How
Should
Those who know of God
Meet and
part? ...
I hope you are leaving therapy because you are strong in your skin and open to people and relationships, not running like me.
Today- i am not quitting.
Be Well- Echo.

Yeah, he knows. I don't know if he understands the intensity of it... but I think he might. I don't want to derail your thread with my story.

Here's my thread.

Hi All,
Awesome thread, I've really enjoyed reading everyone's poems, both original and by other authors. Very powerful stuff.

Poetry has actually been an important part of my therapy. I used to write poetry in High School (lo, many many moons ago ) but literally hadn't written any in about 30 years. I started journaling for the first time in my life when I started working with my present T and I hit a point where I was really struggling to express how I felt and it seemed the only way to do it was to write a poem. For me it was a major sign of a return to life; that I had cleared enough crap out to actually have room and energy to do something creative. My T and I have also extensively discussed the necessity of art because there are deep things about human experience that just can't be expressed in a straight forward manner, so we turn to art to say that which we cannot say. (BTW Helle, I believe that you'll actually be able to write MORE poetry when you're not in pain; but you need it now because the pain you are trying to express is inexpressible.) So I have been writing poetry as I have been healing. I'm going to include two of my poems below. The first one was one of the very first I wrote. I was struggling to express how it felt when the bottom fell out and I needed to connect with my T. He told me after he read it that it really helped him understand what it was like for me. The second poem, Acceptance and Struggle, was extremely important and ended up leading to one of my pivotal moments in therapy. I wrote it and then sent it to my T and asked him to read it before our next session. When we discussed it, it was obvious that he has spent a great deal of time with it, and had really thought about it. It lead to our understanding of my belief that pain is an integral part of love and my T explaining that that wasn't true, that pain is an integral part of life and love is the answer to that pain. Understanding that was what finally allowed me to start experiencing a sense of security with my T.

Unraveling
Small doubt eating away at the fabric of confidence
A rip, tearing open the lid of the abyss
Swirling chaos of pain with no anchor
His voice, a life preserver, flung amidst the storm
Promise of safe haven, of steadfastness
A stronghold in which to shelter
The storm passes while I stand still

Acceptance
I love, yet love in fear
Feeling long sought safety, I flee from the greater pain to come
But love does not follow,
Holding fast, securing ground
To flee from pain is to leave love behind
Receeding ever further, more distant, more faint
I turn back to see pain barring the way
Poised on a knife edge,
To go back to love holding fast is to pass through pain
To return, I must accept its presence
Pain walks beside me as love, and life, draw me back
Standing with love, I find the strength to be pain's companion
Only to learn that pain is love's handmaiden
Acceptance dances just out of reach
elusive, ephemeral, refusing to be grasped
Shall I leave both love and pain behind?
Or find stillness, that acceptance may find a place to alight?

AG

Ag-
You write well!
I enjoyed your poetry.
the first one clearly resonates with how I've been feeling lately (much better today though)
What causes these waves of uncertainty?

quote:

pain is an integral part of love

Hmmm this makess me wonder about what my T would would say. Personally in my experience I would say this is so.
Nice work AG.

I love AG's poems because they really speak to me. I have only written two poems since being in therapy. The first poem which I dared to read to my T brought about a big disruption between us which later became a huge healing moment when I confronted him about some of the things I wrote in the poem. That poem was a huge stepping stone in our relationship and through that disruption I made a true friend (not my T) who has stood beside me through lots of ups and downs in my therapy journey. I don't feel comfortable posting that first poem but I also wrote this next poem sometime after that when I was struggling to tell my T what it felt like to be on this therapy journey....

Darkness Into Light
(copyright to True North, 2009, all rights reserved)

Darkness surrounds me
Inky black it suffocates and
I struggle to breathe
There is a safety in its blackness
I cannot see
And I cannot be seen
It’s better that way
Brokenness, badness, defects all hidden
It feels safer like this
There is no life only deadness
Terrified… need to hide
And time rushes past me
While bleakness surrounds me

If I choose to touch life
I must leave the darkness
For there is light in life
But there is fear and pain
I step forward and the ground moves
There is nothing to hold onto
I am so alone
I can’t do this, I don’t know how
Fear sends me back to the dark
Filled with self-hate, I hide
I don’t deserve to be seen

The darkness looks different
A point of light pierces
I reach out
To test its realness
Warmth, comfort, calm, what is this?
I lose my footing, a hand steadies
I am not alone now but
I can’t stay, fear is my shadow
And pain is close by
Leaving the darkness
Brings light to the shame
Terrified of the pain
I look for the way back to darkness

Suspended between dark and light
I yearn for the warmth and the comfort
To flee from the fear and the pain
I cannot go back
But I cannot go forward
Paralyzed
And yet somehow I know
I am not alone, I am accepted
I am safe and protected
So to reach the light, I
Concede the fear, while
Pain still clings, with a tentative step
I turn towards the light
And the love and the caring
Trusting here I will find peace.


Light and dark, pain and fear, trust, safety and caring... all seem to be an integral part of all of our therapy journeys.

TN

Helle, I like your poem... it expresses so many of your feelings and the confusion about what happened in your therapy. I really think you should share it with your T. It may open the door to a stronger relationship, understanding and healing. Some sentiments, it seems, can only be expressed through art or poetry.

TN

Thanks TN,
Your poem brought tears to my eyes. That does seem to be the experience.
Yes- I sent him the poem, he called (after I txt)and said he should get it tomorrow. He said he couldn't wait to read it; to which i responded, "Oh you might be surprised." He sensed my forboding tone, then left 2 voicemails about dealing with the positive caring and sharing -is the easy part, but dealing with the negative difficult stuff between us is the super hard stuff, and that he was proud of me. I did not return his voicemails, but if I did- I would say- let's see how you feel after you read the poem. I will see him on Monday. The little girl is scared, but I think I can do this. (I think I can, I think I can. )

Helle,

Your poem is beautifull, really moving... it brings out tears.
I don't know what happened between you and your T, what kind of difficulty you are going through.

From your poem I can only guess, that you feel you made him angry and feel that you don't deserve or there is no more closeness for you.
But I'm glad you are still staying connected.

Let me just tell you what my T said and I hope it also applies to your T. He said something like that "I'm human and I do get angry sometimes, but I will never reject you".
I will hold on to these words and if a time comes that I will sense anger I will try to remember the equation: anger does not equal rejection.

Take care and good luck on Monday.

quote:

I will hold on to these words and if a time comes that I will sense anger I will try to remember the equation: anger does not equal rejection.

Thank you Amazon- I will remember this for Monday.I am shaking in my boots already.
My T received the letter/ poem today and he left me three voice mails- something about now we are doing the hard work. He did not sound angry at all, but said there is stuff to work out, for both of us.
I txt him to ask if the tree outside his office is in bloom, cuz I am going to need it to ground myself- most likely.

I am not really quite sure why he got angry, other than we have different spiritual beliefs, and maybe he thought I was pushing too hard. (and I probably was)I saw him the morning of good Friday.
Before the disconnect- he asked if my church was having a Tenebrae service (and we were), and he wanted to come to it. A Tenebrae service is a Good Friday service, about Christ's suffering. The whole service is done in silence, and everyoneleaves in silence, so we never got to talk about what happened in the morning. He sat with my daughter, her boyfriend and me. It was all so weird, because I could sense his anger- or closed heart or something.
A few days later I left for Vermont. The first day there-it rained, so my daughter, my friend and I went to a great bookstore in Manchester. The exact book of Poetry that my T had been sharing with me before the disconnect (Hafiz) was on display, and I noticed it as soon as I entered the store. Not a common book I might add. Hafiz is a 13th century Persian poet. So of course I bought the book.
The more I read, the more anguish I felt over the disconnect. I really don't understand what happened, and he said that he is not sure either, but we will talk.
I should add, that it is not so weird for me to see him outside of therapy. Through seeing him, I am learning that my attachment/transference (what's the difference?) is not erotic or really romantic, but it is very intimate. I think sometimes he is my father, sometimes my girlfriend, and even my dog at times- who is always glad to see me. (I hope he never sees that one)I am not sure who he was when the little girl ran for cover, probably my father.
I will take your message to heart- and thanks.

Funny you should mention about being human- in one of the voicemails he said something like " we are both human- so we can work this out.And while reading scripture this morning- the passage i read referred to making mistakes because we are human. (3 times in one day-huh... food for thought)

quote:

I can’t stay, fear is my shadow
And pain is close by
Leaving the darkness
Brings light to the shame
Terrified of the pain
I look for the way back to darkness

for me it would be- Leaving the heart of the unknowing- or Leaving the blindness of mind
because I have love confusion issues rather than depression, although I don't know what T would say.
He calls labels psycho babble- and doesn't use terms.
this is from your poem TN. and it is so so powerful for me- thank you for it.

My T said that I am blocking something- dealing with love. And this comes pretty darn close to what I feel-hmmmm- not really feel- in my head, but more what my body experiences.
I was just rereading this thread before sharing a poem I wrote - still in progress-regarding my T's other office- his real one.
constructive criticism welcome: (that shows growth for me)
- who asks for criticism?

Untitled (as of now)

Thank you for showing me the important room
The one that holds the thinking, the feeling of you
Thank you for tearing down the wall, just a little-
For it is my wall too
You open the door to accept my struggle,
And compassion illuminates the room
Lighting the truth of who you are- to me
Without diminishing the importance of our work
You are clearer to me now-
You are my soul therapy

By Helle

Which works better-
The one that holds the thinking, the feeling of you
or
The one that is the thinking, the feeling of you

Which is better-
You are my soul therapy
or
You are my soul therapist
or
You are my heart and soul therapy

Thanks for your help.
Should I send it?

Hi Mayo. Thank you. I'm glad you liked my poem and that it had such meaning for you. In re-reading it I can see now that I'm closer to the ending of the poem than I was when I wrote it. Progress has been made! LOL.

I enjoyed reading your latest and I think it describes the importance of your seeing his "real" office. The room that reflects who your T is and how he feels. The room that holds him and now where you can meet your challenges with his help. I think the room will become an integral part of the therapy you are doing with him. In my opinion, what you wrote is perfect and I would not change anything. The room holds him, feels like him but it is not him. So I like the original lines. Also, you are my soul therapy... I think the therapy is bigger than just the therapist. It's is all encompassing, it takes in everything about your relationship. So I like that original line as well.

Oh, and I think it would be fine to send it to your T. I think he would like to know what a positive impact his therapy room has had on you. I tell my T often how much I love his office (aside from the saggy couch ) and how I could not imagine him anywhere else. It is just SO him. He seems to enjoy hearing that.

Just my thoughts ( and 2 cents).

TN

Hey Monte and TN, Thanks for your comments. I appreciate your help. I will leave the poem as written.
And Monte- so proud of you, nice work! One questions though, are you from Europe? I don't know what a sook is?

I just couldn't bear to openly acknowledge the importance of his presence in my life.- quote by Monte.

Unfortunately- he already knows - he tried getting me to talk about it- last session, but I can't. And when he does that- I just want to say something kinda mean like- "what makes you think you're so important to me? You'er not! that is the urge- but it is not true. Hmmm... something to think about indeed. I have work to do- here (as this just came to me)
If you can- please post more poetry- yours or your favorites, that would be good.

Just wanted to share...

Untitled

I don’t know how she does it,
but when I’m with her,
I feel remarkably special and especially normal
in the same exact moment.

This juxtaposition perplexes me,
for it directly opposes
what I’ve supposed was
an accurate opinion of my shameful existence.

But to be honest,
normalcy scares me…
frightens me and worries me…
like rampant dysfunction intimidates the unencumbered.

Regardless, she sits there always,
aware of my discomfort
yet unafraid of my feelings
as they come and go.

See, she can see feelings for what they are…
temporary indications of internal reactions.
But for me, in that moment,
the emotion itself is blinding.

I can’t help but trust her though.
No matter what,
she always pleads her case emphatically
without ever trying to convince me.

Indeed, on the contrary,
it’s the nuance of freedom…
of her lack of manipulation…
that allows me to consider her suggestions.

And her eyes.
They convince me too…
that she is real
and that I just may be worth the constancy of her gaze.

They follow me everywhere.
They don’t stalk me or chase me, or wait for me to fail.
They simply follow me, earnestly and hopefully
so that I may get used to the idea of being seen.

And though, on a good day
I can barely remember how she looks…
and the image of her eyes is only ever faint, at best,
I can hear the way she looks at me.

I don’t know how she does it,
but somehow,
her patience hums when she looks silently
and her curiosity pounds when she peers intently…

But my favorite
is the way her heart whispers
when she finally catches a glimpse
of me.

CT,

Hi! Good to 'see' you around again. I wanted to say that I REALLY appreciate your poem. It is wonderful and lovely, and really touched me. Thanks so much for sharing it with us.

I hope you're doing well. (((((CT)))))

MTF

quote:

And her eyes.
They convince me too…
that she is real
and that I just may be worth the constancy of her gaze.

They follow me everywhere.
They don’t stalk me or chase me, or wait for me to fail.
They simply follow me, earnestly and hopefully
so that I may get used to the idea of being seen.

And though, on a good day
I can barely remember how she looks…
and the image of her eyes is only ever faint, at best,
I can hear the way she looks at me.

I don’t know how she does it,
but somehow,
her patience hums when she looks silently
and her curiosity pounds when she peers intently…

But my favorite
is the way her heart whispers
when she finally catches a glimpse
of me.

This all stood out to me very forcefully as I just read it again. I can empathize with this so much myself it gives me the goosebumps. You have a great way of expressing this connection with your T and how meaningful it is for you to have her 'see' you. Really cool, CT.

Hi CT,
That was incredible. I could never have put it into words but reading your poem made me shout "That's it!!" That was very powerful, touching and beautiful, thank you for sharing that.

quote:

I don’t know how she does it,
but when I’m with her,
I feel remarkably special and especially normal
in the same exact moment

All of it resonated but this really rang true for me.

AG

quote:

Regardless, she sits there always,
aware of my discomfort
yet unafraid of my feelings
as they come and go.

See, she can see feelings for what they are…
temporary indications of internal reactions.
But for me, in that moment,
the emotion itself is blinding.

I can’t help but trust her though.
No matter what,
she always pleads her case emphatically
without ever trying to convince me.

So powerful- thank you.
You must have a wonderful T to have these words.

Hey AG- nice to see your post.

CT, this is gorgeous. It is hard to pick a favorite part - every verse made my heart pound - but if you really twisted my arm hard, this would be my favorite:

quote:

But my favorite
is the way her heart whispers
when she finally catches a glimpse
of me.

Have you read this to your T?
It is great to hear from you again - I've missed you! {{{{{{{CT}}}}}}}

SG

CT,


That is a beautiful poem!!

Hi all. Thanks to everyone who posted such kind words about my poem. I'm so glad you found it moving. I was a little worred that it would be seen as corny or cliche.

I have not been able to share it with my T yet because I haven't been in to see her since I wrote it. I am going to take it with me to my next session on Tuesday though.... hope she likes it! I'm really nervous about her reading it in front of me... I wanna just drop it off and run and hide while she reads it...

I used to write poetry all the time, but I haven't had the urge to for a couple of years. Poetry is weird for me. Sometimes I just think in poems, and something starts to come together and I have to just write it to get it out of my head. That's what happened with this one... all the sudden it was just there... like my subconcious has been working on it for years or something (lol).

Oh, and sorry I've gone AWOL from the boards. Life has just gotten really stressful and chaotic and something had to give. I'm trying to go to bed earlier and not stay up all night on the computer... I'm sure you guys understand. Plus, therapy has been really off and on and I haven't wanted to think about it anymore than necessary most days!!

Thanks again.

-CT

I hope it things get better for you CT.
I really enjoy your work

Lately, this Stones song is breaking my heart, but in a good way, and it's poetry to me. Had to make it my new sig, too.

SHINE A LIGHT

Saw you stretched out in Room Ten O Nine
With a smile on your face and a tear right in your eye.
Oh, couldn't see to get a line on you, my sweet honey lover.
Berber jewelry jangling down the street,
Making bloodshot eyes at every woman that you meet.
Could not seem to get a high on you, my sweet honey love.

May the good Lord shine a light on you,
Make every song your favorite tune.
May the good Lord shine a light on you,
Warm like the evening sun.

When you're drunk in the alley, baby, with your clothes all torn
And your late night friends leave you in the cold gray dawn.
Just seemed too many flies on you, I just can't brush them off.
Angels beating all their wings in time,
With smiles on their faces and a gleam right in their eyes.
Whoa, thought I heard one sigh for you,
Come on up, come on up, now, come on up now.

May the good Lord shine a light on you,
Make every song you sing your favorite tune.
May the good Lord shine a light on you,
Warm like the evening sun.

The band Phish does a excellent cover of this tune.

I'm not a poet but...

Lost In Her Woods

I don't know which way to go
Forward back, left right
I am lost and yet comforted because this is her forest
Surrounded by the presence of her woods, I feel safe even when lost
I am mildly distracted by the sun, but it barely shines through her trees,
And vaguely tempted by the wind, which only whistles to me through her branches.
Even the falling rain is shielded by her leaves.
All around me her forest wraps itself
I have a feeling I should get out,
Before the sun sets,
Before the wind is still,
And the rain drops dry
I know I should escape
But I am trapped here
Because I refuse to leave


I'm not sure if the meaning of this poem is evident. But what I'm trying to express is that my thoughts have been focused on T so much so that I'm feeling lost in them. And even when I need to think about or concentrate on other thoughts (sun, wind, rain) they are even filtered through the thoughts of T. Her presence is very heavily in my mind.

yes, forlorn, i hear you. and i am on your side, if i am understanding you, that they (t) are always on our mind, things she would be proud of me for doing, things she wouldn't. seems like a mom and child, in the poem, and i just assume that one day we will not need to hide behind our t's comforting acceptance and encouragement to come out and play. mine told me i play cat and mouse, or 'catch me if you can' with her, whenever she gets close to something i am not ready to go to (which is EVERYTHING), i hid, distract, pooh pooh, change the subject, or, most seriously, leave my body. the later she got to last time, and i got to tell you, leaving my body, but hearing what she was saying, felt, somewhat, healing. she carried the conversation, i flowed with her to the point of a comfortable place of leaving my body, and she carefully flowed me back. felt scary but safe, idk, she may just be GOOD?? she took me there, showed me around, described acurately what i was feeling, didn't make me talk, i felt comfortable going there with her, and that she was there and with me and safe and warm and ok and she took me right back out, i almost wanted to stay in there longer, in that previously unsafe haunted place of being that child that she says i am SO afraid of.

dang, she is poetry at times, and i must say, skilled at her craft. and i think alot of her and about her, but yes, am still PISSED she thought i was feeing sorry for myself....don't they know without that, they would have no profession!! (i jest!) mmmmmm, feeling warm. jill

Hello all it's been awhile. This is my first post in the poetry thread, so please be kind and forgiving.

6:45am

Hello there I’m Tuesday, 6:45am
Half-awake, half-dying
Terrified to let you in

Hello therapist I’m broken
My walls are crumbling down
Here’s my sacred stash of secrets
Will you keep them safe and sound?

There are times I want to touch you
But don’t you dare touch me
I’m disgusting and contagious
There’s a disease inside of me

Hello there I’m Kathy
I’m 9 years old again
Go away don’t touch me
On second thought; lean in

Hello David I’m Kate
I’m afraid we haven’t met
I’ve been betrayed before
So I’m loath to trust you yet

Hello there I’m Friday, 6:45am
I’m weary from the week
Relieved to see your face again

Hello there I’m next week
Can’t believe you stuck around
I may act like I don’t need you
But please don’t let me down

See I’m just this little girl here
Not the grown-up that I am
I suppose that’s why I feel
I’m only 6:45am

quote:

Hello there I’m Kathy
I’m 9 years old again
Go away don’t touch me
On second thought; lean in

Hello David I’m Kate
I’m afraid we haven’t met
I’ve been betrayed before
So I’m loath to trust you yet

Hi WLOH, it is nice to see you here posting again. How are you doing?

I really liked your poem and those lines I quoted above really resonated with me and my new T. Having been betrayed by my oldT makes it so hard to trust anyone else. It's very scary. And what you wrote about "lean in"... well my T did that just this week when I was in a lot of pain. Instead of backing away from it or me he leaned in and moved his chair towards me. That was HUGE.

Thanks for the poem. I enjoyed it.

TN

One of the great poems:

AUTOBIOGRAPHY IN FIVE CHAPTERS
1.


1. I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the pavement.
I fall in.
I am lost ... I am hopeless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.


2. I walk down the street.
there is a deep hole in the pavement.
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I'm in the same place.
But it isn't my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.


3. I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the pavement.
I see it is there.
I still fall in ... it's a habit.
My eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.


4. I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the pavement.
I walk around it.

5. I walk down another street.



PORTIA NELSON

From “There's a hole in my pavement: the romance of self discovery”, by Portia Nelson, Beyond Words Publishing Company, 1994

Another of my favourites"

LETTER TO A YOUNG POET



We have no reason to harbour any mistrust against our world,
for it is not against us.
If it has terrors, they are our terrors.
If it has abysses, these abysses belong to us.
If there are dangers, we must try to love them,
and if only we could arrange our lives,
in accordance with the principle that tells us
that we must always trust in the difficulties,
then what now appears to us to be alien
will become our most intimate and trusted experience.


How could we forget those ancient myths
that stand at the beginning of all races -
the myths of dragons that at the last moment are transformed into princesses?
Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are only princesses
waiting for us to act, just once,
with beauty and courage.
Perhaps everything that frightens us is,
in its deepest essence,
something helpless that wants our love.

So you must not be frightened if a sadness rises before you
larger than any you've ever seen.
If an anxiety like light and cloud shadows
moves over your hands and everything you do.
Life has not forgotten you.
It holds you in its hands and will not let you fall.
Why do you want to shut out of your life
any uneasiness, any miseries, or any depression?
After all, you do not know what work these conditions are doing inside of you.



RAINER, MARIA RILKE



From “Letters to a Young Poet”, translated by Reginald Snell, in Rilke Poems, Everman's Library, 1996

a very inspiring thread...

here's a poem i wrote a while ago, but funnily enough this is where i'm still at and struggling with right now...


hateful hate

don't punish me no more
selling my soul like a fucking whore!
don't think you can forget
i was there with you when i died
hiding from your tears, oh i know you tried...

don't be angry with me no more,
i've done everything and nothing at all!
when will this boiling stillness burst?
i am full, i am full, please kill my thirst!
i can't let go of the hate,
it's all that stands between the truth
and everything else fake.

a poem with no rhythm is dead
just like the life switch in my head...


puppet

WLOH: Thank you for sharing that. It was really moving.

Sadly: Thanks for sharing those poems.

Puppet: Thanks for sharing your poem. That was so moving and raw. I'm sorry you are still struggling.

I've written some poetry, but mine is based on certain memories and could be triggering so I won't post here.