I Am Bad at Therapy
By Stacey Park Posted in Poetry on September 13, 2019 0 Comments 2 min read
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because prayer should have quieted my mind / because
my prayers have not worked / because therapy is what
sick people need / because I am not sick but strong /
because if I believe in God enough, I will be better /
if I believed in God this whole time, I should be perfect /
because I’ve pushed on for so long / God has given me
the strength to push on / I pushed on for so long yet
broke / I pushed on for so long yet broke, had
to admit that I was a little sick / because I thought
sickness was weakness / weakness would bring me
to my knees / on my knees I have to face just how
broken / to face just how broken I have to see what
broke me / because I have boxed up brokenness
and shelved it / the therapist tells me I am not broken
but figuring it out / because I do not yet know what
that means / because I have everything figured
out / the therapist tells me we cannot help how we
are born or raised / because I think I can help it,
work hard enough to help some things / because
the therapist says that’s too much to ask of yourself /
I worry that she thinks I am weak / the therapist
says you are not weak, but human / I misunderstand
human / because the therapist says come see me
again week after week and I go because I do what
I’m told / but then I see the therapist cry one time /
the therapist says you break my heart, how hard
you are on yourself and I have never seen someone
weep for my weakness / the therapist says you are not
weak—nothing is wrong with you / I am astonished
at the therapist’s care—how relentless / when
the therapist asks to open what’s boxed the grip
around my throat loosens / but when I hold the
fragments I do not recognize who that is / the therapist
says come see me again again and again so I go / I go,
gasping.


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