In the therapist’s office
the walls vibrate with sorrow
the carpet is briny with tears
the path from door to couch
is rutted by fear’s footprint
and anger swirls like a ghost.
This is where you drop
your burdens when you open
your bag of secrets and let
the beasts out so the ugly ones
can howl and be free and stop
their crazy banging
at the hell in your heart.
Cadence Collective: Long Beach Poets 