everything is
crowded.

I'm not sure what's
real and what's
fake, or what's
good and what's
bad, or even why
I am still
here and not at
home and just
sleeping
relaxing
letting
go.
Instead I am
here.
I am trapped between
four men and
three strollers and
too many
cowboy hats to even
remember how many there
actually are.
All I can
focus on is how
absolutely
terrified I
am and trying not to
disturb anyone but
also trying to
get enough air in my
lungs that I don't
suffocate.

But that's really
really
really
hard to do
especially now
especially here

So please excuse
me for a
minute if I
make myself
small
or if I start to
whimper
or if I
cry a little
bit.
It's nothing I can
help.
But the worst thing about
it is that when
you're afraid of
parties or
stepping into the pantry or
the city bus,
it sometimes feels like there's
nothing you can
help.

And trust
me when I
say that
almost nothing is more
painful than being
useless.

Within this pearl-white room I sit,
Confined by walls of *******.  
Through the white noise of this nightmare,
No one can hear my silent screams.  

On the ground lay a small blade,
I pick it up, gander at it in its splendor
And shimmering steel.
Out of desperation,
I scratch jagged letters into my skin.
Words that signify my desolation:

H E L P M E

Tucked away, separated from
The Architect of Light,
I now **** from the breast of Darkness.
In my quietest moments I wonder,
Where is the Sun?
Where is the Light?
Have they left me too?

Pointing I say, “Over there! My reflection
Meditating on the opposite wall.”
Walking to it, the silver glass begins to laugh
As it collects my thoughts
Knowing my cry of wants.

Now in a world of wells that
I cannot escape,
I scratch and pound at the door
To make a sound.

My final embrace,
Are my silent screams that demand a response.