He still has it

Sitting in
Therapy
I sigh....
So sick of
This
I say.
What?
My therapist asks.
Me.
I am so
Sick
Of me.
No matter what
I do
Or what
I say
I still
Have problems
With me.
I say.
My therapist
Nods and looks
At me.
Saying nothing.
I start to ramble..
I hate my nose,
My old face,
My grey hair,
My muffin top.
I hate alone.
Being alone.
My therapist
Takes of
Her glasses
And says,
How about
Your heart?
Do you
Hate that
To?
The way it fails you?
I sit
Speechless.
My heart ,
I respond
Is the one
Thing
I
Have never
Used.
Not on me.
I give it
To people
Who
Do not deserve it,
But I have
Never
Used my
Heart on me.
My head drops
Down and
I start to
Cry.
Silence.
My therapist
Comes
Around
Her desk.
And sits
Next to me.
She makes
Me look
At her.
When
Will
You start?
Using
Your heart
For
You?
Come on!!
She yells at me.
I do not
Know how?
I respond.
I will show
You,
She says.
As I left
The building
I felt so
Numb.
How can I
Not
Use
My heart
On myself?
Oh, I know
Why ...
He still
Has it.