by Jules Roberts

Created on: May 10, 2008

The Counsellors Ceiling.

I sit in the counsellors chair
with all my senses in a twist,
stretch to reach the mind so open
although I know it don't exist.

As a silence embraces me
an aching panic stirs within,
I wait for what will follow now
the butterflies have spread their wings.

Out they fly in angry colour
and drop the words they held so long,
I see their weakness exploding
to something dangerously strong.

The words are crawling up the walls
and they watch me from the ceiling,
the butterflies have disappeared
flying free and without feeling.

The counsellor calls time with me
praising every word I've said,
they never see that when I leave
the ceiling crashes on my head.

(1996).

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