worn
psychology books,
dog eared with the corners
twisted down
on pertinent pages
i read a line or two, then
throw it across
the room.
i'm done with that.
i'm a walking encyclopedia
of the DSM.
if i could put my finger
down my proverbial
psyche throat
i'd spit it all up, but i can't
i've digested it.
it's part of me.
i can't help looking people
in the eyes now,
and knowing
what their problem is,
and how?
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