For any help, my arms are open.
If this is real, then I feel broken.
I truly just feel hopeless.
All I want is somebody to hold me,
So I hug my pillow and squeeze tightly.
I try to fight the voices in my head.
Instead, I’m thinking back on all the things I never said.
But its hard to reach out for help,
When I hate myself.
Honestly, I know my direction.
I know where I’m running,
I’m not chasing perfection.
I just want to look in the mirror and see my reflection.
I wake up in tears and fall back asleep in those puddles.
I lay where I cry,
I’ve got too much on my mind.
I think about what if I died.
The lies I hide behind,
Like saying I’m fine,
As a person, has me defined.
I lie and say that I try.
But its hard to reach out for help,
When I hate myself.
