10-27

Until it's already started, you never see it coming.

Head starts pounding and you're suddenly sick to your stomach.

Nothing there to ground you but you still reach out to grab it,

Your heart drops to your stomach like breaking a bad habit.

Hard enough to take a breath now your lungs run out to catch it,

Your hands shaking aren't helping as you try to cling to nothing.

Here's to nothing,

What we end up with when it's done.

You still can't bring yourself to make it stop,

There's no winning in giving up.

Mama didn't raise a loser,

Never giving in too easily.

Too bad I'm too big now for her to want to see me.

Little kid cries out from inside, from where I try to save her.

"Mommy help, please." 
But she couldn't hear it over the screaming and crying for help,

But 'help' is never the word that's able to fight it's way out.