Closing the door after he leaves,
Torture.
Knowing they are forcing him away from my office daily,
Even Worse.
How can they not see how sad he is?
How can the world be so mean?
How does that Bat guy fight him
without knowing just how much
he hurts?
He's just a
wounded tiger,
a wilted flower,
an angel under a mask.
A mask of insanity.
Why haven't people been able to stand him
as their patient?
Why hasn't anyone been able to listen to
everything he says?
Why does everyone who tries go insane?
They say he talks about me when he's gone.
They say he's starting to get better.
They say he might become somewhat sane.
But just when we think I've worked some sort of magic.
He sneaks out.
He fights.
He's found.
His picture haunts me in my office.
I get scared that he'll get hurt.
Batman could get the best of him.
He might not return.
I feel as if his picture is watching me,
occasionally I found myself holding it without thinking
and then struggling to let it go.
And when I finally get to hear how much he fights to get back to me
after our sessions,
It's even worse than imagined.