Therapy
I find myself staring at her scars
I never thought I’d see battle wounds
So close to home;
I open my mouth to speak
To say anything at all
But it takes much more
Than just a few words
To stitch up a broken soul.
Alone in my room
I want to piece myself together
But I’m a combat medic without training
And I can’t carelessly toss out
Words like medication.
I pick up my guitar
And sing to myself;
Notes work like a needle
And I feel my heart putting itself
Back together.
I think that maybe
This is what she needs
This is what we all need
And this therapy,
This medication
Is what I need to give
For the rest of my life.