Weak Poem by Ellis Slater

I am weak
So weak, I cannot ask for help
I am weak for freezing
Weak for crying myself to sleep

So weak, I tremble under your glare
Always at war, begging for an end
But in the night, cold and bare,
We're each other's best friend

Do people actually see me?
No, they see my facade
They see what I want to be
No one will see me weak

People only seem to see my mask
My illusion of a strong person, always trying
The one who is always happy, my impossible task
I am the one you'd least expect to be dying

I am never told I am alike such
But eyes can say what minds refuse
I can feel it everytime we touch
We all know my heart is easy to bruise

Now when I cry
The tears and snot get stuck in the mask
I really want to die
So I guess its good I don't have a flask

Its showing again, my diagnosis
Broadcasting my lack of happiness
Everyone can see me battling my weakness,
Pretending that I am not hopeless

I swore Id never fall into this hole
Hiding my scars is taking its toll
Friends ask what I am freaking out about
I am just trying to pull myself out

You see, my head is a folder.
It can keep a lot in place.
But once it flows over,
Stability leaves without a trace.

Stability, it leaves me all alone in this dystopia.
Alone with anxiety, depression, and the fear of me.
Most seem to have an abundance of selfish myopia,
I will knock you off your high shelf to make you see.

Remember every night with the monsters
Waiting, plotting under my bed?
I am like a child that they foster
And they creep into my head.

They hold me tighter the more I resist.
But I've left open my weak spot
Handing me a razor and guiding it to my wrist
I try to stop, but I can only watch blood drop

I cannot ask for help
For everyone would see that I am weak
So I let my heart and tears fall in my room
And pray that this is the peak

My mother did not want me to share my thoughts
Since it sounds like my family ignores my pleas
Believe me when I say they love me lots
I just cannot help feeling like a flea

I told my mom once about my fear
She said "It doesn't matter what others say"
I don't think she ever had to hear the leers
It is hard to go on another day

Well, I guess I am just another tally
A statistic to make suicidal teens make sense
I wonder, should I stay to rally?
Or finally give in to the overwhelming percents?

Every day is another fight
Why do we carry on
Everyone says to hold onto my light
But what if that's all a con?

Caring will be my end
It will kill me before I can change my fate
They say it only takes a friend
But I am afraid that they are too late

So I guess I am just another tally
Part of a statistic that will never make sense
I wonder what would have happened if I had stayed to rally
But now, I am just an overwhelming percent