Lying to my Therapist
I’m good.
There’s a television channel selling me photocopiers and it makes me feel good. There’s a political crisis in the Maldives and I feel good. The selection of plant-based milks at my local supermarket make me feel good. The Radio Times, the sound of a flute, the receptionist typing up my details all makes me feel good. The silver dog statues on the mantelpiece make me feel great and the real dogs in the play park make me feel fucking amazing. The dripping tap makes me grin, the egg white froth clouds make me weep with joy and the plumper who came to fix my dripping tap- I am in love with him. Every shoelace brings me utter ecstasy and the stone in my shoe brings me unmeasurable measures of pleasure. The piled up plates, the empty cans of tuna, the sacrificial killings of women, the stereoscope, the rising sea levels, the nettles who bit the curious baby, the body bag under my bed, the bear like man who comes into my room at night and offers me a selection of bingo dabbers and when I deny, he screams, and that makes me feel happy.
Ginny Darke is a poet and student who lives in Wales, United Kingdom. She was shortlisted for the 2018 Foyle Young Poets Competition and her work has been published with Cambridge University based zines and Poetry Northern Ireland. Her poetry can be read at ginnydarke.wordpress.com.