Bumbling Bumbershoot

You were supposed to be my umbrella.

Helping to guide me to shelter from this storm.

I came to you for solace.

All you had to say was "You have anxiety."

As if my problems weren't real or valid.

"Find someone to talk to," they said,

"It will make you feel better."

I confided how I felt cliche sayings felt dismissive.

You responded by bringing up a new one each week.

As my umbrella, you were meant to shelter me,

Help me wade through my storm.

But instead, you were a bumbling bumbershoot.

$300 a session for this.

That's why you are no longer my therapist.