Doctor, doctor
will you help me—
will you help me?
My goal is
to fix that
broken soul.
The ropes tied—
too tight around
my throat,
I can’t stand,
The Crooked Man chokes
the voice out of me—
I can’t speak
peacefully
anymore.

Get out of the sinkhole
before I get buried alive
inside that casket
full of razor blades
and inner hate.
Break the loophole
of being trapped in
a small fishbowl—
Drowning.

Trying to start letting go
before I lose control—
it’s hard
when a ******
of crows echo
where I follow.
It’s hard when that ghost
kills what I still hold,
It’s hard to not
know where to go,
It’s hard to carry
my heart with a hole.
Doctor doctor,
will you sew it up—
Sew it up?

My goal is to
not feel alone,
My goal is
to find home—
Crawl to hope
before the
black hole
drags me in
again.