Bubbles In the Belly of a Borderline

I sat on the couch in her office. I'm a piece of work She asked me "what ails you?" I smiled because I didn't know better. I smiled as I spoke of the pills I took last night, And of the piano tutor who took me Even though I was only twelve. I know he was a pervert But I drowned my sorrows in sherbert And cut myself for twelve more years. Her jaw dropped. The feelings rise out of my body and into the air Like bubbles in a can of diet cola. I try to grab on to them I try to understand the horror on my therapist's face. The bubbles break on my skin; All I'm left with is a saccharine grin And no more insight than I had last night When lay on my bed with a vial of Xanax and a bottle of gin.