The Help

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A lacerated tongue from my crooked teeth.

Taste the bitter lies and metallic liquid of repressed opinions.

Sputter acidic words teeming with spite for yourself, I'll stand as a sheild for the others.

I could weave my speech of positivity into your aura of revulsion and carve my concern into your soul with a blade.

Though, will my initials fade over time like the literature on ancient temple walls?

I truly hope it embeds into you and leaves a mark on you this time, a mark left behind like a ring does on a finger.

At least that indent is a reminder of who you love and why you love them.

Will my indent remind you to love yourself and as to why you do?

I don't see you the way that you see yourself.

Go ahead an claim me blind but my eyesight is pristine.

Your mind triggers your eyes to see nothing more than worthless.

Though to me, you don't need to be worth something to others to be able to be worth something for yourself.

Give yourself permission to clutch at your pillow and weep.

Your tears will thank you for finally being released.

The maw of your subconscious has locked and masticated the last of what you had left.

I will help you regain what you have lost.

Take my hand, let's turn our faces to your fears.

Show them you are still here and how you stand strong on unsteady grounds.

Your meadow of wild flowers may have perished but we shall lay out new soil and begin the regrowth.

To rid of the mirrors that have insulted you.

Exile the nails from the soles of your feet.

Eradicate the barricade between you and your goals.

Allow me to peel the mask of introvertion and secrecy from your face and hold you close.

I can hear you pleading for an embrace, even though you are to frail to speak.

Many nights consisted of you drinking water to alleviate your stinging throat.

The resolution to that is not water, it is unhanding your wails and banish the words of admission.

You need help.

You need a friend.

You need to heal.

Collapse to your bruised knees that are ruined by repetition and hug mine.

The deepest of blues, purples and greens stain your skin like the deranged decor of melancholy.

Utilize me as a balance, for I can see your ability to go on is wavering greatly.

Tear away at my attire, my flesh and my soul if need be with your claws of dismay.

Raise yourself up and let us see eye to eye, I refuse to speak down to you whilst you fall apart.

The late nights are where you drank obscene amounts poison in hopes that it harms the people you loathe.

This is a retired habit of self-destruction and remaining in a place devoid of peace like the wars that demolish the people.

You are not weak by asking for help, even the most vigorous warrior needs an army behind them.

Will you allow me to be an army of one for you, a person of many battles?

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