Therapy.

Finally, an outlet, for people to listen.

To understand, I wasn’t at fault.

To know, I did what I could.

Until I couldn’t, and wouldn’t.

To vent, to bitch, to make them laugh

at you, nothing is directed.

Everything is scripted by me.

My truths.

My pain.

My hilarity.

My trauma dump.

It’s my turn to shine.

And I have the microphone.

M