Therapy should help you see the opportunities
And light up your night sky with stars,
Not leave you with nothing to show but
An arm full of scars.
It should lessen your troubles,
Not make them doubled;
Strengthen your voice,
And make you feel you have a choice,
Not make you powerless, afraid to speak out…
These last weeks have broken me, there is no shred of doubt.
I’ve tried my hardest, every single week
But each day brings a vision more bleak.
I’ve suffered a secret, unfortunate affliction,
That I dare not speak of –
It’s the stuff of fiction.
A feeling I myself cannot understand;
An experience so tragic and most certainly unplanned.
And now with one week to go,
I’m living through the deepest pain, that nobody else knows.
The weight on my heart each moment, it grows.
The beating no longer resides in my chest…
The imminent loss has dragged it down to its new place of rest.
The pit of my stomach is where my heart goes to die,
Unrequited in torment brought on by ‘goodbye’.
None will know the horror I’ve endured,
Falling ill to circumstance,
Praying for rescue, with no hope nor chance.
My refuge became my prison cell;
Perpetual torture, trapped in hell…
Unable to escape the choices I made,
The cards I played,
The longing in my heart, and the impending grief
Of losing the cause of my heartache, but also of my relief.
Nobody could know, for I’ve worked hard to conceal
The chaos of gut-wrenching emotions I feel.
The therapists know, as does my arm,
All others are oblivious to the destruction and harm,
And how hard I’ve fought, to try and remain strong,
To attempt to join in, and feel like I belong.
I surprise myself that I lasted this long.
I’ve made every session – the whole course I’ve braved…
I only hope at the end of it I can be saved.