Northern_Lights_2019

31 Untitled Catalogue Poem By Brelynn Komrosky I told my therapist it wasn’t my fault, “I’m just too crazy” Plus, even with her advice and coping skills, pills Make my brain too hazy. She told me life can make sense, But my family never taught me common sense. She says I often have a big list of irrational and negative thoughts, But that is because my cat died when I was seven. I have low self-esteem, but I can’t fix this because a lady on TV said, “Vain people don’t go to Heaven.” My therapist tells me I shouldn’t blame others for my problems It is her fault though because her shoes didn’t match so, she made more problems instead of solving them. I mean my therapist is distracting, She didn’t hurt me, but if I didn’t think about her bright, mismatched shoes this wouldn’t be so taxing, And it isn’t my fault I’m anxious when her clock is constantly ticking. It also isn’t my fault then, when to get away from her, her shoes, and ticking clock that I start fibbing. I tell my therapist what she wants to hear. It’s okay to lie though because my mind gives me irrational fear. She’s looking too close at me now. Dang she confronted me in a lie, but how? She somehow got me to cry, It isn’t my fault my mood swings are just too high. I’ve pointed my finger so much at other people my therapist joked that it might come off. So, because of her I’m sorting through my thoughts.