Noni’s a good name for a therapist
Unfortunately I know more than she does
About cognitive distress
She’s has no clarity about the rot in her life
So naturally, I give her advice
She makes a pot of calming tea
As I talk my way through what I see.
She is speechless, astonished
Shit, maybe I am a psychic
I wonder if there’s any money to be made in this?
Is it a conflict of interest?
Likely, very likely it qualifies, I think, as a detestable practice.
I should probably stop it.
So anyway, I went to a therapist today
To assure myself of my own normality
And talked for hours in a warm beige room for free
I wonder why, with so much insight,
I’m no closer to obliterating my imagined he
It must be undetectable, even to professionals
This insanity.
