Spring cleaning

I haven’t called or seen my therapist

in months and I wonder if she worries,

or wonders about me

as often as she crosses my mind.

I found her card while I was spring cleaning

which made me laugh and then wince

because this is what therapy feels like;

cleaning out closets and emptying old shoe boxes,

turning the pockets of your favourite jacket

inside out to find a pittance of dust and fluff.

And as always, I see her name

and think of a question

but never an answer, at least never the answer

I am meant to hear: that her kindness

didn’t make me special and missing people

is probably just a professional hazard.

Photograph & poem: © Kristiana Reed 2019

6 thoughts on “Spring cleaning

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s