I Develop A Crush on My Psychiatrist

And here she is: thirst.
A parable about a drowning
man. A skull found by the edge
of a river. Gully of a mouth,

bank of a woman. What can
be filled with bird song alone?
The body craves. Contact. Salt
living like an eel on my tongue.

Whereas the pills are a chart
of little stars. Whereas chemistry
is a love song between two wards.
Whereas she told me: “you will

become more of who you are.”
Her name a net in which we
catch my self. The diagnosis
thumbs the pages of my spine:

a diagram of want marked
here. A warning. A prophecy
on brittleness. A fable on
the origins of heat

humming in commune
with my blood the skull,
its mouth cracked
open, miming “feed.”



Click here to read Dani Janae on the origin of the poem.

Image: “Skull”, In Hiatus, licensed under CC 2.0.

Dani Janae:
I wrote this poem after, as the title suggests, meeting with my psychiatrist. The next step was finding and clinging to images that evoked some sort of understanding of myself and my feelings for her; what the body craves translated into a need for something or someone I know I can not have. The central image, the skull, is both the cradle for the brain that is the genesis of these emotions and also the mechanism by which the emotions are spoken into existence. I understand transference and how we often develop feelings for people who make us feel like ourselves, and I think that is both the crux of the poem and my relationship with her.

Dani Janae
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