Therapy

It’s interesting to me
How experience
Like age
Is measured by time

Because people are not wine
Any more than they
Are phones
I am reminded

By the synthetic smile
Handed out to eyes
Like mine
Averted from life

Because what they don’t have is
The true compassion
I heard
In his steady voice

Just another depressed teen
With experience
In pain
Twice as capable

As the trained professionals
Whose practiced speeches
Gave me
Extreme hopelessness

Because these days everything
Sends me spiraling
All alone
And I realize

How adults blare their music
And listen to news
But he
Sits in the silence

And he hears what they cannot
Sees what they ignore
That’s why
He’ll always know more

And he wishes he knew less
So he lets himself
Get older
And can’t comfort me

Anymore