Deceits of December

"Shower," my therapist says.

"It's been a week"

As if the water, luke warm in Winter's chill, could actually wash the pain away.

"Brush your teeth," she says

"You'll feel better."

As if the the hard bristles of my toothbrush

Could return a smile to my face.

"Change your clothes," she says

"How long have you worn that same shirt?"

As if peeling off this layer of fabric

Will peel away the unhappiness.

"Meditate," she says

"It will quiet the mind"

As if listening to a voice drone on and on

Will actually calm my anxiety energy.

"Take your medication," she says

"It helps."

As if chemical concoctions

Miraculously provided a cure.

How does one function

When one just doesn't care?

One step in front of the other

Day by precarious day

Eventually Spring will come

And wash away Winter's turmoil.