The Therapist and Her Clock

How are you feeling?  (she'd ask)

I'd rather not say

My thoughts for the stealing

They're mine! Get away!

You're hindering not healing  (Suffocating me, squeezing)

Give heed, give space

I'm searching for meaning 

But this feels like a race

Don't rush me, don't push me

My words aren't enough

I'd rather find the honest ones

Than sit here and bluff

She's waiting for me to say something

I can see it in her eye

So I sit a little longer

As she breathes, a hidden sigh

She looks at me expectantly

Ready for my words

So I blink and breathe rhythmically

That's all the trust she's earned

She leans in, shuffles forward

As if to force me open

I'm a hard nut to crack

Even when broken

(But the truth is it's more than a silent standoff

 It's showing my scars to a stranger

 Ripping the plaster off)

I can't explain this feeling

Maybe I never will

So until the words come out

I'll sit here. Silent. Still.