ChatGPT is getting better. I asked it to write a poem about therapy in the style of Emily Dickinson. Might even be having a joke with the dashes.

"The Quiet Room"

A chair — awaits — my weary thought —
The silence — soft — but not too fraught —
A presence — still — and yet unseen —
That listens — where the heart has been.

The door — ajar — the air — is clear,
A space where all my Doubts appear —
But I — am safe — to speak the Name
Of sorrow — and no one is to blame.

The words — they come — and sometimes fall
Like raindrops — heavy, soft — but all
The while — the mind begins to rest —
A whispered balm — a gentle test.

And though the day might end too soon,
The thoughts will drift — like flowers' bloom,
For in this room — the weight is light,
And darkness melts — to tender light.

The self — not healed — but understood —
The fractures — seem a little good.
For in the quiet — I remain,
And talk — to lift the silent pain.