Reaching out for help is one of the hardest things to do, especially if you begin to feel like a burden because of it. This is a piece written about so desperately needing to talk it out, to get some help, but feeling like it's asking too much of the people around you.

Sick Of Myself

I can't go to anybody for help because they've all heard it a million times.

It's nobody's fault but my own and to push that burden on others is unfair.

Everyone around me is so beautiful, so filled with potential.

I look into myself, and I can see the winding staircases that make up my ribs.

An endless journey upstairs that nobody should be forced to conquer.

I can only tear down these steps myself, and I feel like my hammer just broke in my hands.

There is an endless thunderstorm following in my footsteps, and everyone around me is sick of the rain and lightning.

Why can't the static electricity make me feel something?

Maybe if I hold up all my insecurities like metal poles, something will finally spark.

If you listen close, you can hear the monotonous ticking underneath my words when I speak

I am a ticking time bomb.