I won’t ever let myself ask for help.
And everything gets worse and worse.
I can’t tell anyone,
I can never reach out
To a stranger or a friend
God forbid a family member.
All the anxieties,
Sadness, confusions, desperations
Build and build.
I keep this aching storm inside,
I function day-to-day!
But all the while I’m just hoping someone will see –
Look at me! I’m struggling! Can’t you see?!
I invent different ways to somehow show
Without words
That I’m not coping.
I attention seek, I guess, just not the normal way
Or for normal reasons.
I need your attention,
I don’t want it
And if I get it,
I won’t enjoy it!
I’ll probably shunt it.
But I need it
(help)
But -
at the same time as wanting you to see -
I don’t.
What is there to see?
I’m just being stupid
I have nothing to say, or complain about,
Don’t look at me!
And then the building storm bursts it’s walls
And every last ounce of fear and pain I’ve collected since the last nuclear-blast
Screeeams HELP!
And in the most unhealthy way imaginable.
You can see now, can’t you?
Who can miss that? This? These?
I used to hurt myself in secret because there was no one to help,
(or so I felt)
And now I do it as the final straw.
It’s my cry.
Help.
