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White Linen
by: KW

She hears my silent cries
My hidden fears
And without judgment
She listens to my lamentations.
As my story unfolds
She accepts every word, every thought
With her white linen pages
Open wide
Anticipating tears of dark pigment to flow
Etching the images
Of rents and abrasions
As I am etched
By shards of betrayal
Past and new.
And with each intimate passage
Respectful silence assures me
Of her unspoken promise
That my trust in her
Will be honored
And I can close each entry
Knowing
I am not alone.

Sometime ago I wrote this poem for my therapist who has since abrubtly left clinical work. I wish everyone could have a therapist as caring and supportive ... she was always there for me and I could trust her completely. I've come a long way in my recovery because of her. In case she reads the poetry on this site ... this is for Mary

©2002 KW. Reprinted with Permission.

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