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Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2® 304: ‘Can I Be Your Psychiatrist Tonight?’ (Rated Rg2: Mature Readers Only)

18 Mar

Bear skin rug

 

“Can I Be Your Psychiatrist Tonight?”

Can I be your psychiatrist tonight?
I have no other clients—I’m exclusively yours,
Mental debris you need to unload, I can sense
It’s time we attend to the partially open sores

Not yet fully healed—the past has not passed
You carry still the stayed-too-long and exit wounds,
Why did Mr. Right turn out to be Mr. Flight . . . ?
Having left you stranded amid the romantic sand dunes

Your sarong blowing helplessly in the dusty wind
Woman, I’ve got you focused in my binocular lens,
Lost in the relationship desert you’ve been wandering
But I won’t attempt to rectify their past sins

Too heavy a burden, that challenge has no winners
I wanna listen, I wanna learn … the anger, the hurt,
Lay back and relax … we’ll expunge the anxieties
A forum is needed by the most guarded introvert

I know you’re not needy, but bitterness is greedy
Life grows shorter with each cancerous thought,
Big girls don’t cry, oh, what a tender lie
In my emotional safety net you’ve now been caught

Go on, I’m listening, and I believe I understand
It’s quite alright to pause into the flames, very well,
What was it about that decision you now regret?
You were living the limit of your experience, exhale

We can’t go back, unfortunately we can’t
A do-over is impossible, but what about a do-better?
Yesterday a survivor–today I see a thriver
No more bad love investments, no longer a debtor

By all means, lay back, spread your wings and release
Let me pour you a silky warm cognac, I’ll share,
Vignettes of life appear as we gaze into the flames
Talk it out, let it go, I’m listening, woman, I care

I know you’re not needy but lust can be greedy
I’ll keep a safe distance in the middle of the floor,
But, I swear, I’m on the verge of professional violations
A breach would occur only if we open that door

What are you saying, woman, are you sure . . .
Gosh, maybe I’m in need of a little therapy myself,
Must you rest your hand on my chest that way?
You’ve got me talking to myself, I say, “Self . . .

. . . you realize neither of us is a licensed psychiatrist….”
But mutual therapy tonight we’re willing to co-pay,
How is it that you’ve turned the table on me, woman?
We’ve talked enough—Pamper-Her-Friday wants its say….

______________

***

Pamper the woman . . . and she’ll give it back. -Rg2

© 2016 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

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Posted by on March 18, 2016 in Pamper-Her-Friday

 

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