Please, stay with me.

Please, stay with me!

I think this every day, yet it never leaves my mouth, but instead stays tangled in the thoughts of my mind.

Please talk to me!

I want to say, but whenever I have a chance, I hide, and ask how school was.

Please, let me help you!

A simple phrase, but moreover the most heroic thing anyone can ask.

I see you every day. I have known you since we were three. I know you better than you know yourself.

So why can’t I be there for you, when you’re always there for me? Why can’t I ask you these simple questions? Was it my mum that died? No. I don’t think it was- It was yours. So why am I such a coward? Why do I always hold back, when its your health, your happiness, your life on the line.

Is it the fear of scaring you off? Or is it the fear of watching you cry your eyes out, as each mask you’ve carefully moulded over time slowly falls of. As each torturing thought in that pretty, little head of yours gets released from that cage you call your mind, and all the dreadful memories of your old, happy life comings rushing back in like a tsunami.

I want to help you. I want you to talk to me, and I want to be there for you. But just like always I fail you. And now your by yourself, trapped in your own imprisonment.

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