Dear Therapist…

Sometimes, all you can do is lie in bed, and hope to fall asleep…..before you fall apart.

Crumpled sheets lie all over my desk and every thought seems trivial,
The burned bits form the aroma, as my confidence becomes menial.

I question my existence as I drown in the alcoholic haze,
I realise the futility of hard work while the ceiling catches my gaze.

You see, I can’t scream “I need help” cause then they question why,
That question keeps me up at night yet my answer’s just a sigh.

I know I’ll have to return to this maze even though the constraints make me drop to the floor,
But the truth is that I just can’t keep wishing “this too shall pass” anymore.

Sometimes I just want to lay on the street and drown the noise of the cars,
All I wanna do is open my arms and fall into the City of Stars.

17 thoughts on “Dear Therapist…

Add yours

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: