I sit on gravestones of broken relationships

Always there to comfort the mourners

It doesn’t matter that I lost a friend

To my own feelings I am but a foreigner

I perch on bedside tables and

Inhale to absorb the dark fogs

From dreams, leaving behind only

Pink clouds and puppy dogs

It doesn’t matter that

Dark dream clouds now

Purge my waking thoughts

I’m used to that anyhow

I live within a magic 8-ball

Spitting out advice for

Questions I haven’t yet

Answered for myself nor

Do I plan to, it doesn’t matter

For in the doubts

I feel at home for its

All I know, no way out

Is my default setting

It doesn’t matter

That I am about to drown

I can see them splashing

Happily, no incoming breakdowns

Because I’m here for them

And don’t think I don’t

Believe they’d be there

For me, they’ve shown

They care, but they shouldn’t

Have to, I am fine

It doesn’t matter that

Cracks show when I smile

Any struggles I have

Are only mine

They’ll never see me break

Doesn’t matter how far I bend

I’ll never show them my pain

Because I’m the therapist friend