I'm not saying my poems are a cry for help.
But I'm also not saying they are a sign of elation.
It's just that for so long.
Till now, I have to be the bearer of strength.
I have to forget that I'm human and I'm suffocating.
And deal with everyone else.

And for a long time coming.
I knew I'd reach a point of being tired but never stopping.
Of being broken and down but my support to others never dropping.
The only thing down, would be my own self.
Burning and turning to ash as I fix everyone.
As I make them feel good.

Now Look at me.
Unaware of who I am.
I don't know

I just
I think, I'm not okay.
And I don't even know the first steps.