deepundergroundpoetry.com

Kitten-Heeled Life Coach Platitudes

forced from my dream  
the one where I am ok
for once  
being pulled from the dock
just as I can see my ship
on the horizon  
gritty eyes  
peel back the curtains of slumber  
at the very moment  
of impact  
where the weight of me  
flies back into my bones  
from wherever the fuck it hides  
whenever I can finally sleep  
 
“the new day is what you make of it!”  
my therapist’s phantom voice  
shrieks in my ear
like the Saturday morning alarm
I forgot to turn off Friday night
but...  
 
...somehow...  
 
I’ve perhaps failed to tell her  
that while she’s spinning  
her silky,  
completely useless,  
Pinterest-chevron,  
coffin-nail with matte polish,  
kitten-heeled life coach,  
platitudes  
she means to dub over  
the tapes on repeat,  
the ones I’ve heard  
for  
 
far longer  
 
than this fresh-scrubbed caregiver  
with her disgusting brightness,  
shiny new shoes and pressed shirts  
has been alive  
certainly longer  
than she’s been telling me  
how to frame my days  
upon waking  
 
I just lay here, wondering  
why  
there  
must  
be  
so  
many  
of  
them  
Written by LunaGreyhawk
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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