Why can I not accept the hand
that you hold out so readily
when I am descending into a black void,
taking with it my incentive to go on?

Why is it I will fight with you,
push you away, and make you feel
as if I no longer want you to stand by my side
when truthfully I want nothing more than for you to stay?

Why, when I am all alone
and I'm longing to reach out
I stop, dead in my tracks to scared
for the rejection I have received too many times?

Why is it that I can lend myself to you
in your times of need so willingly,
knowing the benefits of having someone there,
but I cannot accept this help myself?

Is there something wrong with me,
or is the painful, blackness
just too enticing to some people...
some people like me?