if the devil were a therapist
have a seat
how do you feel?
tell me what you do with your idlel hands.
i dont know,
im not sure.
My days are long and a blur.
my hands are lazy and deprived of healthy activity.
while still being restless.
how does this make you feel?
mothering is half my being.
its all i am
its all i love
you are empty.
your a shell meant to hold life and die.
im sure your emotions are very colorful.
i guess im ridiculous rainbow
but i gave life.
so why am i still here?
he tapped out his pipe on his sleeve and blew the ash off onto the floor.
but i do not have the answer.
have you thought of self euthanasia?
i can write you a script.
im obviously still here for a reason.
maybe ill find my next purpose
she turns to her over flowing cup of coffee.
she reaches for it.
slowly she sips and sips again.
she turns to the doctor and asks,
if your the devil, why is my coffee cold?
he looks at her then back to his writing pad.
this isnt about me.
why do you choose to stay since your true reason for being here has been fulfilled?
your typical reasons
yes. but id like for you to tell me something new.
i want to know how i leave this earth
with no intervention.
id like to see who my child turns out to be.
i want to see her morn my death
and continue her life as a stronger individual.
i want to say good bye to everyone i love over time
not all at once.
so how will you deal till you leave this earth?
how does the thought of it make you feel?
im not sure.
go to sleep
id like to find a balance
i guess i feel nothing.
her coffee started to warm up.
her fingers grew hot.
it burns now
she drops it at her feet.
why are you laughing?
our session is over.
its time to wake up.
she hears a faint cry.
she sees a faint light.
shes ready for another night.