My Versions of Asking for Help at 2:00AM
Location
Hey,
I know it’s late
but I’m trying to stay okay
like really trying
like I’m sitting here in the dark
holding on to a silver butterfly that somehow
fell in love with my computer screen.
Like, I’m trying to pretend as if nothing’s wrong
and practicing my lying is the only way to stay afloat.
So can we talk in metaphors
and play games with the moon?
Hey,
I know it’s the middle of the night
but I don’t want to drown in an ocean of shadows anymore
because the ocean became a hell that I didn’t see coming
because I just loved how lovely the setting sun looked over the water.
I’m trying to swim
but the ocean is full of blood
and only disease can swim there.
I think the ocean is inside me.
I think I swallowed it with the rest of the world.
I think it tasted like chocolate,
like the kind of sweet that isn’t too sweet,
but the kind of sweet that makes you want more.
I think it’s making me sick.
I think I shouldn’t be talking to you
because what if it’s contagious?
Hey,
I don’t know you that well,
but texting someone in my contacts in the middle of the night
is better than leaving a suicide note for strangers
tucked away in odd places
like behind the mirror or on a google docs on my computer
or in a pile of ashes on the floor.
Hey,
Would you happen to know the definition of happy?
I guess it’s an odd question to ask in the middle of the night
but I promise I will pay you back with all the silver butterflies
and broken promises that I keep tucked under my pillow.
Hey,
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry.
I have to go vomit up all the oceans
the world placed in my throat
or tear them from the veins myself.
Hey,
I don’t have a last line.
I don’t have the strength to stop the raging ocean.
I don’t know how to write a note. But I do know
how to ease my fist into a hand,
to let the trapped silver butterfly go free
let it fly off into the night to be what it really is
not a metaphor, just a moth.
A beautiful thing I can say I held
just for a moment, until we are strangers again.