my cry for help

you're the world in my life

and you're a gift I get for free

I got a new high pulling my strings

and all of it's for selfish me

look at my my hands they are so cold

a weathered look that feels like old

hold them tight, hold them well

grab them help pull me from this shell

all I'm asking in this cry for help

is for you to help come set me free

am I asking to die well?

I just need you to help come save me

in a world where life is lightning

I need the words to come from you

as I crash down to the floor

will you meet me at my knees

here's my last laugh, here's my cry

my spirit seems to want to die

but alas don't let go

my cry for help can take me home

… 

According to my poetry journal, I wrote this poem on August 26th, 1999. I think at that age I was trying to explore the sad emotions of love lost in death or the idea that a person can save you. Putting all my faith into the idea that a person can be saved by someone else. That is just too much for one person to carry and have placed on them. My emotional and spiritual outlook has changed since then. The sketch I pulled and used for this poem I think is a fitting reminder of the change that can happen to a person. I love to draw trees, and you will see that as I share more. The tree I drew above shows a piece missing, maybe a part of me needed to be pruned, and with that comes new growth and change. Pruning makes us stronger. I may not look like a perfect tree but I am growing stronger with each pruning.