Help.

I need help.


I don't know if it's just a story

I'm telling myself,

Or if it's really true

But all I know is that the fresh

scars have teased the hurt anew.


The blood curling, hair raising

defiant cries went right through you.


Do you really know now, why

you are one of those few,

That I come to?

I see in your eyes the same fear

that I used to have too.

The same quivering of lips, the same nervous chatter, the

same night chills and cold sweat.

The same restlessness.

The same listlessness.

The same nail biting, teeth rattling fear of the unknown.

Under you, I can smell the suffering of a past that refuses

to let anything else haunt you.


Tell me now, if I can really tell

you, all that I've been meaning to.

Deep, dark secrets of the yore

that no one but you must know.


Sometimes, I laugh at the inevitability of it all.

It is a bitter, scary,

cackling sound that pierces the sky and then pierces me right back.

It tears my heart apart into two perfect pieces.

One, that was yours, and one that can be mine.


Each fresh day, I awaken to try

and experience something akin to a life.

But darling, tell me, doesn't the mere idea of love,

now that you've known so much,

not scare the hell outta you?

If not, tell me, what I must do,

To leave behind these lingering

demons, that have a way of climbing behind my back, like old friends,

or little children.

So that even in the silence, I don't hear sounds, that humans aren't supposed to.


A grave has been constructed for all our dreams to fall back to,

A dark place, where I can still see you, love you and hold you, without any ado.