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Therapy.

It’s in the clatter of quiet
that my brain aches – vessels
of muchness swell with
a feeling of not much
at all.
It perplexes me a little. There’s
a lot to be said for the black
chair that absorbs me
from consciousness; allowing
me to embrace a face of time
that watches me from
the shadows of his glasses
as careful words string
from his tongue
Perhaps he thinks I’m delusional.
Perhaps.

Perhaps.

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11 responses »

  1. I like the phrase “clatter of quiet.” So often so true!

    Reply
  2. I was on the couch
    once,
    when I asked my doctor
    to prove our existence,
    or at least one of them.

    He barked into the ensuing silence.

    I have been feeding him biscuits
    ever since.

    Reply
  3. Enjoyed this one. Especially like “muchness” and “not much at all,” and the repeat of “Perhaps.” Stumbled over “string” and first read it as “sting.” But perhaps that’s just me reading something into it that isn’t there for others.

    Reply
    • Hello Janet…thanks for reading, glad you liked it.
      I pondered over your comment about, ‘sting’ instead of ‘string’…I suppose I was meaning carefully strung sentences. I get what you meant…where you were coming from with it. But I don’t think it would be his words that would sting…more, your own. Your own thoughts. Or so, I would imagine.

      Thank you for making me think about it some more.

      Reply
  4. Very nice wordsmithing. – Crystal

    Reply

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