Integration through psychotherapy

There is no meaning in any of it.
It’s all madness.
Perhaps I don’t need to look for meaning
Or ask why.
It’s remarkable I’m as sane as I am.

Turmoil, confusion, brokenness.
Isolation, fear, fragmentation.
Is he correct and it’s all my fault?
Is he evil, but how can he be?
He’s my father.

And her, damaged and seeking protection
Offers him her children.
Her, tapping her nails on the teapot.
Him, masticating lumps of brown meat.
Me, gagging and ripping my skin

Seeking comfort in sleep.
But the dreams begin.
A frozen girl, gouged out eye sockets,
Dogs licking her genitals,
Soundless screaming, Backs turned away.

There’s meaning now.
In my garden, frankincense burning,
Chattering birds, humming traffic,
Vibrant yellows, purples, greens.
We sit and breathe.

Isabella