Therapy

“That is really nice”

“I really like your writing”

Sincere, sure, at least I think it is.

The capacity to accept

Let alone

Process

A compliment

Is lost on me.

The files say look ‘em in the eye

Smile and nod your acceptance

Of their compliment to you

Do not lessen your acceptance

Through self deprecation

Or markers of being able to do better

Yet why

When my therapist tells me to keep on writing

The hidden cost is emptiness

That makes me feel worthless

Every time he says my writing is lovely