CRY FOR HELP

If poetry was a person

I would tell her the truth

I will tell her about the nightmares and the sleepless nights

I will tell her about the moments of numbness and plethora of emotions rushing through me all at once

I would tell her about the euphoric happiness that would last for blink and then the prolonged melancholic tears

I would tell her about the messy, chaotic and damaged soul I am and maybe, just maybe somebody will finally start to see my cry for help.

I won't be invincible anymore.