poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “therapy”

A not so dangerous game

I wasn’t about to tell all
but I made an appointment
and promised
I would at least chit chat

She was born down the street
from Notre Dame
but never lived in France
and I remember asking myself
what does that have to do
with Saint Joseph County

She wanted to know
where I was born
but I wouldn’t tell her
didn’t want her to know
we had something in common

Next thing you know
we were playing 20 questions
and it was obvious
from the git go
who would end up winning

june two thousand twenty-two
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

stuffed animal group therapy

there is some solace in the disorder of the day
further complicated by my inability to
distinguish the living from the dead

I used to think I was normal until I was told
I must either be insane or a genius

ever since I fired my counselor and started
self-diagnosing my own internal conflicts

I gave them their very own names
associating them with childhood stuffed animals
alive and well in the far corners of my mind

on sunday mornings we all get together
in a perfect circle and share a pot of hibiscus tea
each of us having a chance to cry a good story

september two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

who’s paying for these anyway

he never understood there are consequences
for his actions
especially as a child

had the good doctor never mentioned it
the concept would have remained
alien to his thinking man’s brain

I always thought we live in a society
where we need evidence for such claims
he remembered telling her
uncrossing his legs and looking away

she never much cared for his constant
avoidance at eye contact
but it was usually worth the wait
once he finally decided to come back around

nothing seems to bother me anymore
since mother passed (he went on to say)

I don’t know about you but that isn’t working
for me

november two thousand sixteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved


I wasn’t scared
just slightly out of it
plus these bloody marys
don’t do anything for me
all day

Later in the evening
reaching for a needle
I sometimes wonder
if Mister Doctor
knows I’ve always
told him the truth

I hear the economy
in Mendocino County
is doing just fine
in my mind
I am already there
tending my own garden

april, two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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