Thought Abyss - Lost In My Head

Asking for help

Asking for help is the hardest thing to do,

when the slits on my wrists seem like the only release,

and the drops of blood on the bathroom floor gleam like rubies in your eyes,

it's hard to explain why this pain brings me peace.

Asking for help is the hardest thing to do

when the feeling of an empty stomach is the only friend you wish to have.

I am now the leaves rustling and stirring in my own romance novel,

it's hard to explain why my body feels like a prison more than a home. 

Asking for help is the hardest thing to do,

when the burns on my thighs are the only reminders of my once burning determination,

and I don't want to extinguish them

it's hard to explain why burn scars are now memoirs I want painted all over my body.

Asking for help is the hardest thing to do,

when you're known as the "happy soul",

when my breath used to leave me wrapped in giggles,

it's hard to explain why they are now accompanied by tears.