CRY FOR HELP
If poetry was a person I would tell her the truth I will tell her about the nightmares and the sleepless nights I will tell her about the moments of numbness and plethora of emotions rushing through me all at once I would tell her about the euphoric happiness that would last for blink and then the prolonged melancholic tears I would tell her about the messy, chaotic and damaged soul I am and maybe, just maybe somebody will finally start to see my cry for help. I won't be invincible anymore.