The speaker has been told that something will help them, and it hasn't. The poem begins quietly, in lowercase, repeating what others promised: "IT WILL HELP YOU." Then the voice swells into capital letters, and the calm breaks. "I AM STILL ALONE" is the heart of it. Whatever the help was, it did not reach the loneliness underneath.
The poem's anger grows as it goes. The speaker turns directly on "you," repeating the accusation: "YOU SAID YOU WERE HELPING ME." The last two lines, "YOU MADE IT WORST. YOU MADE ME WORST," move from blaming a situation to blaming a person, and the slip in grammar ("worst" instead of "worse") feels raw, as if the speaker is too hurt to polish anything. The title, "HOLE," in guillemets, suggests emptiness, a gap that the promised help failed to fill. The mood is bitter, exposed, and lonely, like someone shouting after being let down by people who claimed to care.