Help

Tired of reaching out for something not yet touched. Tired of living for something not yet found. Tired of listening to something not yet heard. Tired of picturing something not yet seen Tired of hoping and praying for something not yet made. I reach out for help as I can feel myself drowning in my own sorrows. I live to see another day just to feel the same exact way. I sit and listen for something to get me out of this prison. I try to picture my future but all I can see are flickers and dreadful blisters. I hope but all I can do is try and cope. I pray and all I can do is dread another day. "Help!" Is the only thing that leaves my mouth. Tears are the only things that leave my eyes. Blood is the only thing that leaves my skin, Yet all I can do is say "I'm fine".