I didn’t ask for this
and I didn’t ask for your help.
I didn’t ask to be like this
and I won’t ask for your help.
It’s all turning into black
and slipping through my fingers.
My failures are everything,
my achievements have become nothing.
I am becoming who I was
and who I was is swallowing me whole.
I never asked you to help me
cause I never wanted you to get pulled into this.
I never questioned your motives,
only my own.
Don’t feel like you have to help,
and don’t you dare try to take my blame.
I did this.
I have to stop it.
I have to win.
Or at least I’ll die trying.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Not another dead poet on our hands.