Cry For Help

Cry For Help; The Song For My Stream of Consciousness 

Intro: Hello this a cry for help hotline speaking? How can we help?

Call drops: Hello? Hello? Ma’am are you still there? Ma’am we can’t help if you don’t tell us what’s going on

*sighs*

*hangs up*

When I was 17 the thought of knowing who I was gonna be for the rest of my life left me terrified.

People told me it was normal at the time 

Thought I’d figured it out at 19

Now I'm pushing 20 and I’m more lost than I’ll think I’ll ever be. Soon I’ll be 30 

Still floating around for the rest of my life 

I don’t think I’ll ever wanna decide 

Sometimes life just seems like 

A waste of time

A waste of time

Oh no no no no no no

I don’t ever wanna decide 

Oh no no no no no no

To everyone who told me high school was supposed to be the best years of my life

Guess what that turned out to be a fucking lie 

And anyone who wants to tell me it gets better

That’s nice but right I’m still hurt 

So instead just tell how to stop making it worse. 

I’m already self-depricatingly aware to a fault, I’m already too well aware of what’s wrong

Cause sometimes I think I’m not meant to find the one.

Other times I wanna belong to someone else more than anyone. 

Sometimes I just wanna die.

Other times I feel blessed for my life, 

Blessed for my life.

Been told my whole life I need to speak up

Well tell me is this loud enough?

The world is forever changing 

So why is it telling me that I can only be 

One thing. One thing. 

And why can’t everyone listen to me when I ask them to just please leave me be?

Don’t they know they don’t gotta a say?

Cause in the end it’ll be up to me anyway 

And that thought sometimes makes me afraid.

Cause I don’t know about you, but I ain’t the same as I was yesterday 

And I’m probably gonna spend too much time contemplating bout what I want when I wake up in the morning. 

To be honest I might be going insane, be so much easier if I could just show you the inside of my brain: 

I feel like everyone’s getting so sick of me

I mean come on, given what I’m going through can they just let me live in peace?

If they saw how many times I dream of giving up in my head

They’d be thankful I’m even getting out of bed. 

But for the first time I’m not sure if care what they think

And honestly it’s kinda a relief.

Cause the anxiety was overriding my reality.

Like the other day my roommate was talkin

Bout how college just like high school

has too many cliques.

It dawned on me I had no more shits to give. 

The revelation felt kinda great cause I haven’t felt that 

Way since I left the 4th grade. Life seemed simpler back in those days.

Remember when I was picking out my university 

I went and made a spreadsheet. 

I compared all the Black populations. 

The one I chose I found out it had 12 percent. Believe it or not it was better than the most prestigious .

Nice reminder I have to take on twice the weight to get

Only half of what they make.

And honestly I don't know how long I can hold onto my morality. No, don’t tell me the answer to this mess is sobriety. You might think so cause you’re just now seeing my crazy. But baby this overwhelming feeling ain’t new to me. 

Can’t blame them for not noticing how much I was putting up a show.

I kept so much hidden on the down-low. 

Maybe it started when I packed up my bags. At the time

I didn’t know I was leaving my own dad.

Didn’t think it was a big deal then, but over the years the calls got less frequent. Took some time but the tears finally began to fucking shed. 

He tells me the phone works both ways. 

But let’s be honest most of the time neither of us know what to say.

We both hate to admit but we’re both hardwire to be stubborn, stuck in our own ways

And it’s torturous for me to say this but Daddy I’ll forgive you for the damage as long as you don’t leave me.

But I know I need to say it before it’s too late.

Or maybe it started when all my friends went up and left. 

I wonder if they’d care if I dropped dead.

Or maybe it started cause none of my crushes liked me back.

I really blamed it on my personality 

Cause you best believe I always agreed when someone told me I was just so pretty.

Or maybe I was born this way

Ain’t diagnosed but pretty sure it runs in the family

Cause I get why my Nana takes care of everyone else but herself.

It’s hard when you don’t know how to ask for help.

And I get why sista cusses me out. Cause for a while she was holding the fort by herself.

Imma only say this once cause we don’t often give each other compliments, but my sista is kinda a bad bitch.

And I get why mother couldn’t get out of her own bed. 

Couldn’t tell her my demons while she was

Fighting off the ones in her own head.

When my Tia took her to the hospital I locked myself in the bathroom 

Praying to a higher power I’m not sure I even believe in. 

Mami, remember that I love you text you sent on 9/11? 

I forgot what day it was and thought you finally fell off the deep end.

Told the teacher please excuse me and called Tia then. 

I’ve always preferred blunt honesty

So here it goes I’m over tryna be everyone’s cup of tea

Cause some of your mothers should feel sorry they ever gave birth to such a thing

But we’re all god’s children- NO some of y’all belong in hell’s den.

I never wanna wish death upon anyone

But push me pass my breaking point I might just push you off a fucking ledge

So I dare you to see what happens when you try it. 

See what happens when I run out of patience.

Guess this was god’s way of telling me to toughen up

Well tell him I got the message and it’s enough. 

Tell him death has already taken so much from me

No need to add my life to the tally

Not saying this cause I think I’ll end up in the ground soon.

I’m saying this cause the way I’m blowing my life, who knows I might just be doomed.

(That’s enough! Is he even listening?)

Always wondered what it’d be like to write a song. Does this count?

Please be nice, it's my first one. Pretty sure it’s gone on too long, now I gotta poem on my hands.

Been listening to a lot of bitter old love songs cause

Broken hearts’ the only accurate way to describe what’s wrong. 

I’ve been told I’m pretty articulate. But I thought I’ve always sounded better in my head.

Why is this all spilling out now?

Looking for myself deep in a crowd. 

Prolly cause I rather not be pitied than ask for some empathy.

My sun’s in scorpio, it makes me allergic to vulnerability.

Have my words worn you out yet? They sure do to me on a daily basis. I’m over this… Think Imma go lie down.

Sike!

You thought? So did I. 

Why is it easier to write this than a letter to the one I lost? 

She always knew how to analyze my inner thoughts. Didn’t know how much I appreciated it til she was gone.

Don’t bother asking how old she’d be today, cause she’d answer 26 every birthday.

Did I tell you this year in 2022 I cried on my birthday?

Last time I remember crying on my birthday I was 8. My head got smashed in 

My cake at the party my tia threw me at her place.

I know my pain doesn’t measure up to how much her offspring are hurting, but ever since what happened

I felt like I’ve lost a limb. 

My sister always joked her and our mother had each other’s kids. 

I told her youngest she should try art therapy. Sometimes I don't know who could use it more her or me? Cause I see how she picks off the skin around her fingertips, can’t even judge when I still pick the skin off my bottom lip.

This the easiest thing I’ve written all year. Past 2 months every paper I wanted to drown in fucking tears.

Did I tell you my Tia was a writer also? 

Trying to chase my dreams without her here makes me wanna cry my sorrows. 

Keep trying push myself to preserve her legacy

But now I can never get any fucking sleep. 

I’m getting back old parts of myself and

I’m introducing them to the me now going through hell. 

I think they get along quite well.

Remember my english teacher introduced me to Maya Angelou, The cage bird went well with all the microaggressions she handed out too.

Can’t even be mad no more cause 

Now I’m singing about you

I think my desire to become an artist is more helpful than my own therapist. 

Who knows cause I always think that I’m right (cause I am)

But I guess sometimes I should just take her advice.

We’re all learning we don’t gotta go through it alone. That’s sometimes you just gotta pick up the damn phone. 

And cry for help! 

And cry for help!

When I was 17 the thought of knowing who I was gonna be for the rest of my life left me terrified.

But I think whoever I’ll be, 

I’ll be proud of her anyway

I'll take care of her either way.

I’ll be okay

I'll be okay 

Oh I’ll be ok

Call sound: I’m okay

*hangs up*

Voicemail: 

What I wanted to say was can you give me 

Some money please?