Sometimes I think Therapist is God
even though her name is Lisa.
God would want to hear about a real experience:
Biggie’s 80s night, two drunk girls kissing.
Lisa wants to talk about my obsession
with The Sims, why I build beautiful pools
for the party guests to swim in
then send them home
while everyone else takes out the ladder
for fun. The last time I was fun
I let Mike Bell’s dog chew
on the bra I drove back to his house for.
Everyone wanted to fuck Mike Bell,
Lisa, so he fucked everyone.
I have aspirations. I enlarge my eyes
in the mirror. I make microwavable noodles.
My grandmother believes in God, Lisa,
but I don’t even know what her back looks like.