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Stella May 2018
I come to your for help
Not to be criticized
I come to you so you can alleviate my fears
Not to be told “I can’t help you”
I come to you because I acknowledge that I need you.
I’m not a basket case
Like others think
I’m not depressed
Like everyone assumes
I’m not eccentric
Like the masses believe
I admitted I needed someone to help me
But why did you say that you couldn’t?
When will I ever get help?
When will anyone ever believe me?
When will somebody start to care?
Why would I get help
If all people do is say I can’t help you
It hurts,
That people would give up so easily on me
It hurts,
That people don't think I can actually be helped
I hate it.
The feeling of despair
After another therapist
Turns me down.
Am I too broken to be helped?
Am I not worth the work?
Am I something that will forever be a failure?
I just need someone to help me
Why can’t you?
Yeah, wrote this from experience... I was so ****** when I was told I couldn't be helped. Anyways, I hope you like this. Thanks for reading.
Harlie Oct 2017
Believe me when I say the world doesn't hate you
Believe me when I say that person can't break you
Believe me when I say those scars don't define you
Believe me when I say darling your beautiful
Believe me when I say you will be something great
I've said what I needed to say now it comes to you
The world isn't perfect so it envies you
The person trying to break you has been broken too
The scars show that you made it through
The world doesn't make mistakes, you are perfectly you
The future is yours so will you push through?
Believe me when I say this life is beautiful and was given to you
Note to self
Mayela May 2016
I can't tell you how it feels,
because you haven't felt it.
You don't understand,
but that's okay.
I'm not playing the victim,
I'm just telling you how it is.
I know you don't believe me,
but it's only because you see me a different way.
It hurts to think about it but I just push it aside because it's not like that anymore, but yet it's still not anything.
Understand I'm not depressed. I'm just hurt and I need to tell someone who cares.
Ambika Jois Nov 2015
When I say you changed my life,
What do you understand from it?
Do you think I’ve changed,
You’re a hero or –
– Thanks to you, I’m now a somebody?

When I say I think about you everyday,
How do you see that?
Do you see me gazing at the sky,
You’re my hero or –
Without you, my thoughts are meaningless?

When I say, “Baby, I need you.”,
Where do you see me going with it?
Do you hear my cries for help or –
Am I just too dependent on you?

When I say “Baby, I love you.”,
Why can you just not believe me?
Do you feel my actions don’t speak loud enough or –
I just don’t love you?
WistfulHope Dec 2014
I know that you've been used and confused,
Believe me, I have too.
Are you afraid to be hurt?
Because I am as well.
But being near you while you're this distant,
It's like walking through hell.
I know what I want from you,
I've had far too long to mull it over.
All I need, love, is you, closer.
Are you afraid? Because I am too,
Though there's no denying,
I think I'm in love with you.
How do I show a boy who has been hurt that I won't do what they did?
Amour de Monet May 2014
Did I tell you?

I’m kind of quiet… no, really, I am. You should see me around people I don’t know…. Ha, yes, I know you don’t believe me… I talk my socks off around you. But, you’re different. You already know the contents of me… I mean, you may not have read every page in detail, but you get the rough draft. Not many people get that. Man, what a stuck up ***** they say… Miss goody two shoes is too good for us… Not all of us are rich like you they say. Oh, how I wish I was any of those things…it wouldn’t sting when they mistook me for anything but the plains, but instead they see skylines and frosted mountains. I am not as complex, I am not as breathtaking, I am not such a climb. It’s funny. i have it together - it appears from the outside looking in. On the inside, I’m so tired. I know you know this - but they don’t. They don’t see 14 hour days, 98 hour weeks, 5,784 hour years… of on the go, here you can have my time, my peace, my arms, my legs, my soul. They don’t see that. They don’t see me helping the family when they need food that week..and me not eating. They don’t see my sore back, my restless nights, or the loneliness that follows endless hours. I’m the one missing out… and they think I am better than them. If they only knew how much I wished I could be more like them and less like me…. how they are the morning skies… and I am merely a spectacle to their bold colors. They’re outspoken, care free, sociable, …extroverted. I wouldn’t dare say a word. I know even then they wouldn’t get me… not like you do. I just sit back - quietly, watching, listening, absorbing…an abused sponge from one too many passes on the burnt pan. Ha, that’s me. Still giving my all - in whatever pieces are left of me, trying to shine the world. Silly I am. I’m ready to get out of here… or find myself again, and stop smothering my heart. It’s an out of control fire and my day to day has become the dirt. I think if I exhale in a week you may just see smoke pouring from my lungs… I’m burning out. Can you tell?

— The End —