Dear Therapist,

I love you.

I've loved you since our first session.

How warm you made me feel;

How open I could be with you.

You caressed my cranium so casually.

It's like you knew what I really wanted.


You opened up to me

And asked me to grace your canvass like an artist of love.

So I covered your white in my black,

Watching a story unfold before me.

How easy it was for my eyes to connect the lines,

As a letter became a sentence

A sentence became an idea,

And an idea became a world.


My fingers slid across your sheet

Like love-making was natural to me.

Pen in hand and mind racing,

I wrote my first page.

When I lifted my head to see the results,

I had covered you thrice in fluid ink.

I was addicted.


Three pages turned into two hundred and thirty-three.

Out of a hobby rose a destiny.

I found the author in me that I needed to see.

All thanks to you, my therapy.

Sweet angel who whispered to me,

"Write until your mind is at ease."

It didn't make since when I started,

But one million words later, and I understand.

You never plan on life becoming what it is,

So pick up a pen and write until your heart is content.

It is not about making sense.

It is about finding the words

To describe what you're going through,

Even if those words are covered by hundreds of others.


I thank you, pen and paper.

I adore you, keyboard and monitor.

You hold the deepest of feelings in my heart.

With you, lies my wife and my King.

Thoughts written upon a page,

Ensure my life is not lived in vain.

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