Someone told me the other day,
I couldn’t be a therapist
because I will always need one.
I told my therapist in our next session.
She asked how it made me feel.
“Mostly like I could’ve asked myself that same question without the copay.”
I didn’t really say that..
but I thought it.

I thought of this painful gift;
intuition and empathy.
All the internal chatter.
The analytical voice that monitors it all.
Guides everyone to their appropriate position.
Let’s them speak as needed.
Repeats and reaffirms.

I thought of all the times,
I’ve been in crowded rooms and
felt too much.
-Bright orange resentment-
-Heavy purple sadness-
Went home drenched in feelings
from that emotional rainbow hangover.
Washed myself clean with white light.

I thought of all the times
I could feel things before
they were spoken.
So raw and open to those channels,
I’d like to close some days.
We all need someone to soak it up
and let it go.
I am a sponge.
The saddest thing about messes,
we all hope someone will clean it up before we have to.

I look at my therapist,
then change the subject.
I make it half way home before I realize I never answered her question.
I know instead she felt all of my muddy brown
and knew exactly what I meant.