“My Nosey Therapist” Rage Almighty- 2016 Individual World Poetry Slam Finals


My therapist is the most expensive mirror I’ve ever purchased in my life I mean, she, she’s copy written my reflection I mean, I mean, she’s just another person that owns pieces of me that I don’t my therapist has coffee breath that unravels my film strip my therapist says I’m negative but I told my therapist that my mind is a dark room and I have a tough time explaining the pictures my therapist says that I have self-destructive tendencies that I take things the wrong way what she really means is: the last time she performed an autopsy on my coping mechanisms she found an asylum of malignant explosions ready to destroy everybody in a trust mile radius I’m just glad my copay covers the soot in her carpet so, I-I told my therapist that I’m very indecisive and I have a tough time making a decision my mouth is a velvet rope for the things I can’t take back this velvet rope throat moonlights as a concierge for my regrets so I go to therapy because I treat silence like a first language but my therapist said I speak puncture wound Ebonics fluidly what she really means is I talk in small circles and by small circles she means big circles and by big circles she means targets and by targets she means I wear my victim like a brand-new pair of shoes but I never told my therapist that I have to borrow my mother’s tongue to say certain words I have to sift her tongue out of a pool of blood and liquor to say things like depression, cherish, adoration, blood, you know, synonyms I told my therapist that my dad had this thing where he’d stuff all of our bowls in a bottle and shrink the spirit out of his family why are you asking me about my family? they’re ghosts now, they’re going down, they’re surfing on my flight response to love and I’m at the shoreline waving them hello bipolar depression is the birthmark I used to distinguish my bloodline with I’ve never told my therapist that I have polite suicide attempts I don’t leave cryptic facebook messages I just cut my wrist and bleed poems I told my therapist that. she said – she said I have self-destructive tendencies so I finally decided what kind of combustion I am I am a controlled demolition cleaning my wreckage with a bucket of vodka and a mop. I told my therapist that I really have a tough time explaining my emotions she said: but you’re a poet I said: Just because I have words doesn’t mean I know how to communicate Everyone needs someone to talk to but not everyone knows how to speak *audience cheering*

7 thoughts on ““My Nosey Therapist” Rage Almighty- 2016 Individual World Poetry Slam Finals

  1. "but you're a poet", and I said
    "just because I have words doesn't mean I know how to communicate"
    Everyone needs someone to talk too
    But not everyone knows
    how to speak

  2. "ive never told my therapist that i have polite suicide attemtps, i dont leave cryptic facebook messages, i just cut my wrists and bleed poems, i told my therapist that, she said i have self destructive tendencies, so i finally decided what kind of combustion i am, i am a controlled demolition cleaning my records with a bucket of vodka, and a mop, i told my therapist that i have a really tough time explaining my emotions, ahe said but youre a poet, i said that because i have words doesnt mean i know how to communicate, everyone needs someone to talk to, but not everyone knows how to speak"

  3. I know this is powerful stuff… but imagine someone saying those exact words to a therapist… I cant help but think "Wait what? Ho… wha… what?"

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