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Snake Oil and Shame
by Kristine BrieseYou had fifteen minutes
reserved for me
this lovely afternoon.
Knowing it would
terrify me, you stretched
it into thirty-five.
Twenty extra minutes
in which to scour me
with the shame to which
I submissively confess
each inevitable month,
to wrap me in your
authority, which is
inexplicably more
demeaning with each
wrathful appointment.
You want to know why
I'm afraid of you,
whether it's the male figure
or authority in general.
You want to know why
I carve such self-debasing
words in my skin.
You want to know this,
you want to know that.
I cower and rock,
trying to disappear
into that intimidating
oriental upholstery.
I lock my hands together
and press their union
against my hot face,
praying for invisibility.
The best I can manage is to
hide beneath your voice.
My skin is reddening,
my insides are quivering.
Panic is not far away.
Your voice still batters me
with questions that rip
into me like bullets.
I dodge and pray.
Someday I will meet your
infernal inquiries with
my head high, my heart rate
stable, and I will say,
"If I had any answers,
would I be coming to you?" 12/19/2003 Author's Note: Just got back from my shrink's office, and I have no idea why. Grrrrr.
Posted on 12/19/2003
Copyright © 2024 Kristine Briese
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Aaron Blair on 12/19/03 at 10:13 PM Maybe you need a different doctor, but maybe the next doctor won't know how to help you, either. I wish that things were better with you. This poem kind of hurts the feelings I usually pretend I don't have. |
| Posted by Agnes Eva on 12/19/03 at 11:13 PM perhaps this poem should go to the therapist. i mean he's supposed to be trying to understand you from inside out, right? and this is very very inside. a window into a state of personal experience |
| Posted by Rachelle Howe on 12/20/03 at 04:29 AM "Someday I will meet your
infernal questions with
my head high, my heart rate
stable, and I will say to you,
"If I had any answers,
would I be coming to you?" i'd change questions to inquiries, or something along those lines, and take out "to you" it makes it such a powerful, powerful punch. other than: priceless. |
| Posted by JD Clay on 12/20/03 at 05:00 PM Sticks and stones, my dear, the mind is such a fragile thing. And poetry is balm for the soul. Congratulations on your awakening.
Pe4ce... |
| Posted by Lori Johnson on 12/22/03 at 07:58 PM "I lock my hands together
and press their union
against my hot face,
praying for invisibility."
Umm.....WOW! The entire poem speaks volumes to me, but that line will "stick in my crawl" forever. :)
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| Posted by Anne Engelen on 12/22/03 at 08:11 PM Kristine...gosh i this is an incredible piece of writing. kinda reminds me of my first few months at the shrink when I was depressed. I was right there once more reading this. great read !! |
| Posted by Charles E Minshall on 12/24/03 at 04:55 PM May you never need the shrink again. He should
improve your outlook, not make you feel hate and
shame....Charlie |
| Posted by Rachelle Howe on 08/26/04 at 09:59 PM "why won't you run into rain and play,
and let tears smash all over you..." (DMB) i'm listening to that now, and it flows so well with this piece. i was laughing at my own prior comment, 'cause i didn't understand it, 'til i realized that you'd taken the advice i don't remember dishing out. either way, i'm with sarah. most definitely. (and i'll carve something into your skin, mmmm... hehehe. come on over.) |
| Posted by Anne Howe on 03/01/05 at 12:30 PM i hope you felt more relief after consulting your word processor. this is a staggeringly strong and 'together' piece of writing. |
| Posted by Christina Butcher on 11/13/06 at 03:18 PM this is a beautiful poem, very well written! |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 05/31/07 at 12:10 AM The medical model - conducting a physical. |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 12/30/08 at 01:12 AM Re-read as 'random'. I love your stuff.
Exchange visits would have been useful - my nemesis was indifference :) |
| Posted by Angela Stevens on 07/06/11 at 02:15 PM I know how this goes with the tension and expectations, frustrations and everything in between. Really like this poem. |
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