Door gently closes;
a divider in place,
my chair to be filled by an Other
invading my sacred space.
Oh therapist, I need to know,
I’m more than just an hour of your week;
not a “client” nor “patient”
easily replaced after we speak.
So, as the door gently closes,
setting You and I apart,
I retreat back to my world;
but do I reside on your heart?
When it’s all said and done
I need to know that I exist;
because you might have many patients -
but I have just one therapist...