Help

Help. Such a simple word, A simple action to ask of another. But if it is so simple, Why is it so hard to ask?

Am I afraid to let myself be vulnerable? To open up my happy exterior, To show the darkness that lies beneath the surface, That swirling chaos that threatens to consume me?

Or is it because of the happy exterior that I keep it in? For others are suffering their own problems, Surely I shouldn't burden them with mine as well. I'm the strong one, The one that listens and helps when others need it. So I think that I cannot ask for help.

When all others need someone to lean on, I am there. When their world is crumbling around them, I am there, holding the foundations together until they can rebuild.

All my life I have stretched myself thin to take on the problems of all that I meet. I do so much for everyone else, Swooping in to save the day, While fighting a silent battle within myself.

Well, I have finally gotten to my limit. I have broken so completely that the darkness is oozing out of the cracks. I can no longer take on the problems of the many. I must think of myself.

I have started to change how I am, Fixing some problems, but I cannot do it alone, Not all of it.

I am finally ready to ask something that I have not uttered in many years, Ready to open up about everything. Finally it is my time to ask, And with the utmost sincerity I plead,

"Please, won't someone help me...."