Nancy Tucker Everything Reminds Me Of My Therapist
Everything reminds me of my therapist.
My checkbook reminds me of my therapist.
Kleenex reminds me of my therapist.
People yawning remind me of my therapist.
And you remind me of my therapist but you don’t cost a
thing.
People nodding reminds me of my therapist specially
when I’m rambling on and on not making a whole lot of
sense about things that are totally unrelated but she
seems to make sense out of them.
Clocks and watches remind me of my therapist the way
her eyes dart back and forth between me and the time.
Pillows remind me of my therapist specially when I beat
them up.
Empty chairs remind me of my therapist specially when I
talk to them.
And you remind me of my therapist but you don’t cost a
thing.
Sometimes when I am in the chair and she begins to
stare I wonder if she likes me or not. But I know if I
asked her she would turn it around and say why is it
important for you to know? I’d say I really don’t know
why I want to know it’s just something I was wondering
about. But the real question is. The one that I can’t
ask her. If you weren’t my therapist- would you be my
friend? Or do you have to like me because I pay you?
Laughter reminds me of my therapist.
My childhood reminds me of my therapist.
My therapist reminds me of my childhood- thanks a lot.
My dog reminds me of my therapist the way she cocks her
head and listens without any judgments at all.
Do I remind you of a therapist?
Why do I remind you of a therapist?
I hear you saying that I remind you of a therapist.
Is it my calm demeanor that reminds you of a therapist?
Unanswered questions remind me of my therapist.
If you remind me of my therapist we’ll probably get
along.
