Advised to be silent, yet told I have been too quiet.
Told I'm not doing my job..by her.
Listening silently and compassionatly...by him.
She rants about my illness and about my lack of communication.
I remain silent.
He listens.
Squares and squares of doodles cover his paper.
I freeze.
Can't talk.
Tears well.
She lies.
And lies.
Lies some more.
I feel helpless.
Yet the silence is calm, theraputic almost.
There is something here that is invisible to me.
It will all come out in the wash...