My shrink has very stylish shoes - A poem/writing I wrote when I was really depressed...

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My shrink has very stylish shoes.
Sometimes black,
Some times mauve.
But always neat dainty and shined.

I watch them as they bounce up and down when she listens to me talk.
My eyes are torn between staring at her shoes and the button on the sleeve of my shirt which I am twisting.
It's like watching a tennis match,
Back and forth.

Her shoes fascinate me.
They distract me from the floor, which is normally the main focus of my gaze.
I study them as words tumble from my mouth.
I don't notice what I'm saying really.
Maybe it doesn't matter.

I know when I've said something wrong though.
Her shoes stop tapping and I know I have to look up.
Into her cold smiling eyes.
But I can't for more than a moment.

I wish they would put posters on the walls or something.
Then I could just look behind her instead.

But behind her is my own reflection looking back at me accusingly from a plastic notcieboard.

I can't look at her either.


Active Member
Eeek i know this is bad and cringy, I just found it under my drawers today and felt like sharing it. I wrote this when I first started therapy about 4 years ago, I'm not a writer and i was only 18 so i know its not great!
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